The Inbetween
by jarienn972
Summary: This story was my submission for the Captain Swan Supernatural Summer event (CSSNS on Tumblr). In this story, Emma is tasked with locating 3 teenagers who didn't come home after spending an evening trying to be amateur ghost hunters in the abandoned Sorcerer's Mansion. In a house they already knew was full of surprises, Emma and Killian find that the teens might not be the only one
1. Chapter 1

Phone calls had been coming in to the Sheriff's Department for a couple of days now, but until today, Emma had mostly been ignoring them, dismissing them as harmless pranks as Halloween neared. Call after call had been pretty much the same:

" _What's going on at the old mansion?"_

" _What's with all of the weird lights at the Sorcerer's mansion?"_

" _Can someone please find out what these weird lights are at the abandoned mansion?_ "

Creepy mansion, creepy unexplained lights — or in other words, just your average occurrence here in Storybrooke — and the Sorcerer's mansion certainly wasn't on Emma's list of favorite places for a multitude of reasons. She wasn't particularly keen on returning to that house, so she'd managed to put off investigating the reported lights as long as she could.

That was until tonight.

Tonight, she'd received a call from a worried mother who reported that her teenaged son and a couple of his friends had ventured into the mansion to launch their own ill-advised investigation of the ghosts that most of the town now believed inhabited the vacant building. Emma didn't believe the reports of ghosts but she very personally knew of the many hazards one might encounter in that damned house — portals to god-knows-where, giant man-eating spiders, and rooms which sometimes had entrances but no exit. There might have been a lot of supernatural goings-on in that mansion, but until she knew otherwise, she'd had no indication that the house was haunted.

Those kids had probably just gotten lost in the labyrinthian corridors or accidentally got themselves locked into a room they shouldn't have entered, Emma thought to herself, blaming all of those ghost and demon hunting television shows for this. Who would have thought it a good idea to make any fool believe that you could go hunting supernatural beings in any spooky, abandoned building in your neighborhood? It was reckless and incredibly dangerous to enter these old buildings without proper safety equipment, but deep down, there was part of her that understood. There was definitely a high that came from facing the unknown and conquering your fears, just the sort of uninhibited behavior that too many teens craved, often leading to impulsive, irrational decisions like heading into the scariest building in town. Hell, Emma herself had been exactly that type of teen, already an accomplished thief long before she'd met Neal.

She certainly wasn't going to head out there alone though, not after her prior experiences in that house, so she roused Killian out of bed with a twinge of guilt as he'd put in a twelve hour day yesterday and hadn't gotten home until after eight. He'd probably just fallen into a nice, deep sleep when she'd called, but at least he wasn't the only one she'd awakened at this hour. She'd also recruited her father, needing the extra manpower to search through the mansion as quickly as possible, preferably without drawing too much attention. She'd already had two near-death experiences in that cursed mansion as well as an extremely awkward and ultimately fruitless search through the Underworld's version of the same building (while being scrutinized at every turn by her very judgemental, very deceased future brother-in-law—a situation she'd never imagined herself being faced with) but no matter what, she wasn't going in there alone.

She may live in a town where strange occurrences were just everyday business, but ghosts? Emma was still a skeptic when it came to spooks and spectres, so if someone had tried to tell her that before the night was over she'd be talking to one, she likely would have thought that person insane.

And this night was still young.

It was about 1:30AM on that chilly, October morning when David pulled his pickup truck into the drive fronting the huge, empty home known simply to Storybrooke residents as the Sorcerer's mansion. No one had lived here since the death of the Apprentice yet magically, the house didn't appear to be near as run down as it should have been for all of its years of disrepair. Officially, it was off-limits to the public with "No Trespassing" signs posted all over the grounds, but obviously, the missing teens they sought hadn't heeded those warnings. He could see that Emma and a bedraggled-looking Killian were already waiting at the front gate, so as he turned off the truck's engine, David secured his service weapon into his shoulder holster before reaching beneath the seat for his flashlight and pocketing it, quite certain the light would be necessary but hoping his weapon wouldn't be. Why exactly had he agreed to this?

"So, remind me again why we're out here at this ungodly hour?" David asked his daughter, failing to stifle a yawn in the process.

"We're looking for three teens — two sixteen-year-old boys and a seventeen-year-old girl from Storybrooke High," Emma replied. "The mother of one of the boys, Tyler Sprat, called tonight when her son didn't return home by midnight as promised. She couldn't be 100% certain about what he'd been up to, but she said that he and his friends have been talking for a few days about coming out here to this mansion to conduct their own investigation into the mysterious lights that townspeople have been reporting. Because they're such experts in the paranormal…"

"It's almost Halloween," David reminded her. "Kids are out there looking for a good scare, and low and behold, Storybrooke has its own proverbial haunted house."

"There are plenty of weird things happening in this town every single day, Dad, but ghosts?" Emma looked at him skeptically as they ascended the steps to the front door of the huge home. "I'd think we'd have known by now if there were ghosts haunting Storybrooke, don't you?"

"Perhaps," David sighed.

"It's far more likely to be bloody squatters trying to move into the biggest house in Storybrooke without anyone noticing or more nosy adolescents sneaking around the property," Killian chimed in. "Now, how about we go locate this trio so we can all get out of the cold and back to bed?"

"I'm in full agreement with the pirate on this one," David chuckled. "Anyone know if this place has any electricity?"

"Not that I'm aware of," Emma stated, holding up her flashlight. "Got one?" David grinned and patted his jacket pocket to indicate that yes, he had grabbed his flashlight. If only he had a portable, battery operated heater to go with it…

Impatient to get their search started, Killian raised the lantern that hung from his hook, illuminating the padlock resting in his palm, the same padlock that had once secured the chains on the front gate. "This lock was cut open by someone who wanted to gain access to the property," he said as he swept the light across the mansion's front door. "This appears to be intact so they likely didn't enter here. Perhaps the back entrance?"

"Right now, I'm not concerned with how they got inside," Emma responded as she waved her hand across the deadbolt, her magic easily unlocking it as she pushed the door open. "C'mon…" She could already feel the hair at the nape of her neck pricking up as she crossed the threshold. Her gut filled with unease, instinct telling her to turn around, but she continued. Tonight, her job came first.

The mansion's cavernous entry hall welcomed them coldly as they stepped through the doorframe, inciting shivers from each of its new occupants. All three took a moment to survey their surroundings, eager to proceed but not so rash as to venture off without a plan. They remained silent for a few moments, exploring the reach of their flashlights as they listened for any telltale sounds of trapped teenagers but hearing none. If those teens were still inside this house somewhere, they had to be deeper within the mansion's walls.

"Tyler?" Emma shouted the name of the boy whose mother had implored her to be in this place at this hour. Getting no response, she called out the other boy's name. "Aiden?" Still nothing save for the echo of her own voice. "Angie?" Not even the chirp of a cricket or skitter of a mouse across the marble floor. Just eerie silence and the sound of her own heartbeat pounding in her ear. "Okay, as much as I hate to do this, I think we're going to have to split up. There's just too much house to explore and we don't have the slightest idea which way these kids went. Cell phones don't really work well in here so we'll have to use the two-way radios on our tactical channel. This place can be a goddamned maze so try to pay attention to your path so we don't have to end up searching for each other too."

"Alright, and we regroup back here in an hour if we haven't found anything?" David suggested.

"Aye," Killian agreed. "If we're unable to locate them in an hour, we may need to recruit additional assistance."

"I'll take the corridor to the right," David stated and Killian followed with an offer to take the second floor.

"Guess that means that I'm heading back toward the kitchen and the dining hall," Emma conceded. At least those were two areas of the mansion she hadn't yet experienced and hopefully wouldn't become the setting for a third frightening encounter with her own mortality.

Each set off to investigate their chosen section of the mansion, Emma's gut still nagging at her with lingering fear that perhaps they shouldn't have separated but if they hadn't, they wouldn't be able to search as much of the sprawling real estate. It was nearly 2AM and Emma could certainly rattle off a multitude of things she'd much rather be doing right now, but this was part of her duty as Storybrooke's Sheriff. She'd already made up her mind that as soon as this search was over, she was going to enact a protection spell around this whole damned building so no one else would be tempted to wander inside.

She found her way into the formal dining hall first, passing under the collonaded archway into the room with a soaring, vaulted ceiling that held two cobwebbed crystal chandeliers. The room was still furnished with a ridiculously long wooden table with sturdy, intricately carved legs and at least twenty similarly carved matching chairs. Sweeping her flashlight around the hall, she spied a series of silver candelabras still holding what appeared to be useful candles, but when she attempted to light those same candles with a flick of her wrist, nothing happened. It seemed a bit odd that not a single candle would light with her magic, but perhaps they were too old or maybe the wicks were damaged, so she stepped up to the sideboard to examine them closer. The candles, while used, seemed to be in good shape other than being a tad dusty. She dug through her jacket pocket to find the lighter she carried for emergencies and times when magic might fail her and, after a couple of flicks, got it to ignite. Then, she brought the flame to the nearest candle's wick, which lit almost immediately.

Needless to say, the candles weren't the problem. This place might not be haunted but it sure was cursed. How unsurprising for Storybrooke, she thought as she lit the three other candles in the same sterling silver holder, then turned her flashlight off to conserve its battery. The four, ten inch long, taper candles were much brighter than her flashlight's narrow beam, illuminating a much larger area. Granted, they threw off some very creepy shadows, but all things considered, Emma felt it was a fair trade-off.

Confident that the dining room was not occupied, Emma pressed onward towards the set of double swinging doors at the far end of the hall, one of which seemed to be propped open although she couldn't see with what. Reaching that end of the room, she could now see that it was being held by a heavy iron doorstop that kept it ajar. Nothing supernatural here, she chuckled to herself as she stepped into an empty, approximately eight foot by eight foot square room that served as buffer between the elegant formal dining room and what would have been the noisy kitchen. She didn't linger long there as the room was too small and too bare to be of any concern, passing through the next set of swinging doors into the kitchen itself.

Upon entering, she took note of a series of doors that exited off of the sizeable kitchen. One was presumably a pantry, while another appeared to be an entrance to the butler's quarters, which she knew was attached to the rear of the mansion. Killian had informed her that the butler's quarters had been the Apprentice's dwelling back when he was confessing his culpability in the whole Sorcerer's Hat fiasco, which prompted a tiny twinge of regret on Emma's part as she'd nearly forgotten how much guilt he still harbored over the actions Gold had forced upon him. She knew this mansion wasn't exactly going to spawn happy memories for Killian either.

"Anybody in here?" Emma shouted as she yanked open the louvered door to the pantry which was surprisingly still lined with canned goods, some of which might have dated back to the disco era. Finding no persons inside, she closed that door and moved to tug open the handle of the huge walk in refrigerator room, which was only slightly smaller than the one at Granny's restaurant. She breathed a welcome sigh of relief to find the cooler thankfully empty.

Emma took a brief glance down at the illuminated dial of her watch before opening the third door to discover that only fifteen minutes had passed since she'd left her husband and her father in the vestibule, although it had honestly felt far longer. She still had plenty of time to investigate the butler's quarters before their agreed upon regroup time so onto the next door she went, completely unaware that behind the swinging doors, all of the candles in the dining hall that she'd previously attempted to light with her magic were now fully ablaze.

Had she returned back the way she'd entered, she might have witnessed the dark shadow that swept across the length of the table, dousing each candle one by one as it passed, plunging the hall back into darkness. But Emma hadn't any indication that either phenomena had occurred as she was already continuing her search into the narrow corridor that connected the butler's quarters to the main house, her mind already wondering if either her father or Killian was having better luck finding those kids.

Above her, Killian allowed the lantern dangling from his hook to lead the way as he began his search of the second floor's many rooms. He couldn't see all of the individual doors, but based on the ones that were within the reach of the lantern's light and from information Emma had provided from her last visit, he surmised there were at least six bed chambers and three or four baths. He suspected that it would be much like what he'd seen of the first level previously—some rooms furnished and others vacant.

When he'd reached the landing at the top of the curving staircase, he'd turned to the left, making his way cautiously to the end of the hallway with intent to explore each of the rooms in sequence so he would be less likely to skip any. He was now positioned directly in front of the first door, and as he reached out to turn the handle, he raised the lantern to illuminate his way. He pushed the door open slowly, feeling the weight of his trusty cutlass at his hip should anything appear that would threaten him, but he found naught. Peering inside, he spied only dust and cobwebs hanging from the ceiling, and the room was bare of furnishings.

He suppressed a little shudder at the sight of the cobwebs, reminded of Emma's tale of the huge spider that had trapped her in this house and would have killed her had the crocodile not intervened. Ironic that the first time Emma had been lured to this house by the crocodile, it had been in an attempt to rob her of her magic and trap her inside that damnable hat, and the second time, when it had been his son, Gideon, who'd tricked Emma into coming here, Gold had been the one to rescue her, apparently not wanting his son to join the family business of evil. She'd assured him that the spider had been destroyed when she'd relayed her tale to him after rescuing him from the Lost Boys in Neverland, but Killian wasn't about to be careless. Who knew if any of its relatives might still be lurking within these halls?

He'd now moved on to the next room, finding a relatively small bathroom which took little time to determine was vacant. The third was a second bedroom, vacant like the first although slightly larger with a gaudy floral paper peeling from its walls. It was as he entered the fourth room that he found something to be very different. It wasn't really the room itself, even though this room was spartanly furnished with a canopied bed and an upholstered arm chair pressed against the wall. No, that wasn't it, he thought. There was something else that was making his skin crawl. Something in the atmosphere surrounding him had changed—colder, darker than the other rooms as even the flickering light from his lantern barely reached the opposite wall.

Yet despite the ominous air, there were no people to be found in there. He dismissed his unsettled mind to be mere fatigue, his weary brain simply playing tricks on him. Backing into the hallway, Killian tugged the chamber door closed, beginning to doubt whether the missing adolescents were in this mansion at all.

And he might have actually believed that if he hadn't heard the voices—faint, but distinct. He could make out at least two unique intonations that were not those of either Emma or David. Someone else was here, but he couldn't quite make out where the sounds were originating. They almost seemed to be coming from behind him, but he knew he'd already searched and cleared those rooms so perhaps they were above? Was there an attic or some sort of loft above them? If so, how was it accessed? There would need to be another staircase or perhaps a ladder nearby but so far, he'd seen none.

"Who's there?" Killian called to the voices, hoping they might be able to hear his voice as he heard theirs. "I'm with the Sheriff's Department. You don't need to be afraid…" He paused to listen, still hearing the distant chatter, but no direct replies so it seemed plausible that the speakers weren't able to hear him. Undaunted by the lack of a response, Killian revised his search plan to hunt for a way to reach the home's upper level. Perhaps there was a stairwell hidden in one of the remaining rooms or a ladder that drew down from the ceiling. He also began to contemplate reasons why the voices might not reply to him, wondering if there might be some interference preventing their response or maybe that same interference prevented his words from reaching them. He certainly knew of such places in Neverland - spots where sounds could travel in one direction, but not the other. It seemed possible that such phenomena existed within this mansion as well.

"If you can hear me, we're coming to find you," Killian stated in a loud voice, his promise not exactly shouted, but with sufficient volume that his assurance should carry to the floor above. He just needed to find a way to get up there.

Downstairs, yet a fair distance from the wing that Emma was investigating, David was discovering that his chosen section of the mansion contained some of the largest rooms, including the formal living room, the grand hall, and the library. He was familiar with the library from their quest a while back to locate the Author, and he knew it contained dozens of blank story books just like Henry's. He'd never officially visited the grand hall, although he'd traversed the Underworld version which honestly, seemed far less creepy within that realm than the version he was currently standing in. He knew from Emma and Hook's stories the horrors she'd been subjected to within these walls—nearly being tricked into Gold's magic-sucking hat and nearly becoming dinner for a super-sized arachnid. He'd also heard tales of weird portals popping up like the magical wardrobe to Arendelle, and somewhere in this mansion was the portal Gideon had used to bring the Black Fairy into their realm.

He absolutely understood Emma's apprehension at returning to this house, but they'd barely discussed Hook's experiences in this cursed place. Gold had ripped out his heart and forced him to be a puppet, carrying out the Dark One's unspeakable requests to trap both the Apprentice and the fairies inside the same miserable hat that had failed to siphon Emma's powers. And of course there was the Underworld, where Hook's own brother had betrayed them by stealing the pages containing Hades' story, dropping them into the well and nearly dooming all of them. This case had to be extremely difficult for both of them, so David tried his best to remain positive that they'd find the kids quickly and get the hell out of here as soon as humanly possible.

He'd volunteered to take this wing to spare them some of that unease, even though it was a lot of territory to cover alone. He quickly discovered that most of the rooms on this end of the building exited from a marble-tiled corridor, some with exquisite collonaded entry archways and others with doors that appeared simple in comparison. There was a lot to search in a short amount of time and he was well aware that so much here was illusion. He needed to keep his wits about him to avoid falling into any of the mansion's many traps.

He'd begun his exploration at the first room off of the entry vestibule, the parlor. This room looked nearly identical to the version he'd seen in the Underworld—decorated with several dust-covered settees and at least half a dozen stiff, wing-back armchairs. A heavy framed mirror hung on the wall to his left, thankfully completely obscured with cobwebs so he couldn't see his own reflection, only the light from his flashlight bouncing back at him. Opposite the mirror was a large oil painting, also coated with webbing and dust so David couldn't make out its subject. It wasn't a very large room and David didn't notice anything moving or anyone speaking so he considered this one to be a bust and headed through the arched entry into the formal living room next door.

This vast, sparsely furnished room had a far more impersonal air than the parlor. There wasn't much in here aside from a couple of uncomfortable-looking sofas and a pair of even more uncomfortable-looking, ornately carved wooden armchairs. Above his head hung a once spectacular crystal chandelier, which now served only as a resting place for even more cobwebs. As he strolled further into the room, the beam of David's flashlight illuminated a giant stone fireplace that took up the entire far wall of the living room, and there was a curious reflection from something atop the mantle. Upon closer inspection, David discovered it to be a video camera, but there was something a little different about it. It wasn't the standard type that he and Snow had used to record their son's milestones, but he couldn't quite identify what made it unique. He suspected it had been left behind by the three snooping teens since the pulsating red light atop it led him to believe it was still actively recording.

At least it was his first, valid clue that the teens had been here, David thought as he decided to leave the camera where it sat, intending to interrogate the kids about it once they'd been located or at least show it to Emma after they'd regrouped should they not find Tyler Sprat and friends within the allotted hour. She'd been exposed to far more modern electronic technology than he had, so perhaps she'd be familiar with this particular type of camera. Aside from that curious piece of modern technology, he saw little of note here though, so David exited out through the living room's second archway toward the grand hall.

His intent had been to investigate the predominantly vacant grand hall, which reminded David a little of the ballroom in their castle back in the Enchanted Forest, but he didn't have much time to explore the hall before an odd noise drew his attention back to the living room. A loud whoosh of a fire roaring to life stopped him in his tracks and a flicker of light from a flame beckoned him. He spun around and hurried back beneath the arched entryway to find no fire. Only a single, tiny red ember glowed from beyond the hearth, yet the faint odor of smoke lingered in the air.

What the hell was going on? David thought to himself. A fireplace couldn't just mysteriously come alive and then extinguish itself in a matter of seconds, could it? For a few moments, David remained extremely flustered. He didn't doubt what he'd heard, but how would the flames of the roaring fire dissipate so quickly? Now he was beginning to wonder if Emma and Hook were experiencing similar mind games courtesy of this house. He thought for a second about contacting them on the radio to ask if they'd encountered anything weird, but honestly, what good would it do? Everything they'd ever experienced inside this house was weird.

Spurred on by the fire he wasn't going to believe was imaginary, David decided to give the living room a more detailed inspection. Something was definitely off about this room and it wasn't just the fireplace. Everything within the reach of his flashlight beam came under scrutiny, which led him to notice an imperfect seam in the Baroque-inspired wallpaper covering the room's south wall. There was a slight gap in the pattern and the swirls of color simply didn't line up properly. With all of the meticulous detail found within these mansion walls, why was this wallpaper put up with such an obvious mistake? In daylight, or beneath a fully illuminated chandelier, the flaw would be highly noticeable...

Unless it wasn't actually an error?

Remembering many of the funhouse features they'd encountered during their search here for the imprisoned Author, David now suspected that this could be an entrance to a hidden chamber or passageway. He ran his index finger along the gap, confirming that there were indeed two separate panels here, but if this was a doorway, how did one open it? He didn't feel any latch or switch within the gap, so he pressed his weight against the panel to see if it would snap back to him, but when that didn't work, he started grabbing anything nearby to see if there was some hidden trip. What might be out of place that could be the trigger? He moved wall sconces and slid furniture but nothing was working until he flopped down on the fireplace hearth to think and his hand found an anomaly.

Out of all of the hundreds of individual stones composing the fireplace, he brushed against one that didn't feel right. It was smoother, flatter and more rectangular than those around it, something a casual glance might not have revealed but this drew his curiosity immediately. He pressed the palm of his hand against the stone, hoping this might be the hidden trip for the door, but pushing it did nothing so he had to give it a little more attention. He ran his fingertips around its edges and noted the lack of mortar holding it in place. This stone was definitely placed here for a reason, but why hadn't he found a latch or switch? He finally grasped the stone and decided to try removing it in hopes that the door's trigger lay behind, but as soon as he tugged on it, he felt a vibration beneath his feet. A quick glance over to the bordering wall brought a smile to his face as the panels separated right along that seam, one of them sliding out of sight to reveal a gaping opening that seemed to be about five foot tall and two feet across.

So, there was another secret passageway in this damned house, David sighed, but before he could get back to his feet to explore the newly opened doorway, there was one more surprise for him—a hand emerging from the darkness and grasping the wall at the entrance. Instinctively, David's fingers inched toward his weapon, ready to draw it in his defense should the need arise, but the eerie hand was soon followed by a face that was hardly a frightening one. It was instead the anxiety-ridden face of young Angie Taylor who took a tentative step from the concealed passageway, eyes darting back and forth furtively until she spied the familiar form of David Nolan.

"Sheriff Nolan!" she exclaimed, practically leaping into a stunned David's arms and embracing him tightly. He could feel her trembling against his shoulder, but as her two companions made their way out of the passage, she took a step back from David and made an attempt to regain her composure. "I'm so happy to see you - to see anyone other than these two idiots - to be honest."

David took a brief visual inspection of the three teens. All three appeared unharmed, but clearly shaken by their experiences. The flashlights the boys were carrying were going dim as their batteries gave out and all David could think of to ask was the obvious question. "What the hell were you three doing back there?"

"We were just exploring, Sheriff," one of the boys replied sheepishly. "We just wanted to try to find out who or what was causing the lights we've been seeing for the past few days. We started chasing strange sounds and unexplained shadows so we set up our infrared camera on the fireplace after Aiden recorded some weird temperature changes to see if we could record some of these paranormal things we were finding. He must have bumped something because that door suddenly opened up…"

"And you couldn't resist going inside," David completed the boy's statement. "Pretty reckless thing to do - wandering into a hidden room in a house you already believed to be haunted without knowing if there was a way out?" He felt a strong need to scold them for their stupidity. "Hell, just coming into this old place was incredibly damned reckless! You're all lucky that Tyler's mom was worried about you and had at least some idea as to where you might be or you'd all still be trapped in there!"

"I know," Angie sighed apologetically. "I told them we shouldn't go in there, but the boys insisted and I wasn't about to stay out here alone. We didn't think that we'd get trapped in there though. There's no latch on the other side of the door and while it leads into the library next door, that door was stuck so we couldn't get out of there either."

"You could have ended up suffocating in that little hallway," David reminded them, intending to make the teens squirm as much as possible. "If I hadn't stumbled onto that trip myself…"

"We stayed in the library since it was a bigger space," Tyler explained. "We didn't go back into the passageway until we heard voices."

"Why weren't you shouting for help if you heard us?" David wondered.

"We were," Aiden insisted. "We'd heard someone shouting what sounded like our names a little while ago, but you couldn't hear us shouting back?"

"Can a room be soundproof in only one direction?" Tyler asked. "How would that even be possible?"

"It's because there are a lot of dangerous rooms and corridors in this mansion," David stated. "I really don't know what any of you were thinking, but right now, it's time to get out of here. Go get your camera while I let Emma and Hook know that I found you." David unclipped the two-way radio from his belt and dialed up the proper channel, eager to reconnect with his daughter and son-in-law so everyone could get the hell out of this creepy old mansion.


	2. Chapter 2

_I want to thank everyone for all of the lovely comments I've received on this story. This was a bit out of my comfort zone but it has been so much fun to write!_

 _Also adding a reminder that this story will contain a non-consensual spirit possession so if this is an issue for anyone, I'm again giving ample warning._

 _And now, here's Chapter Two!_

Hearing her father's voice above the crackling static of the radio was as welcome as a muse to Emma's ears. Tyler Sprat and his friends has been found so they could all now go home. While she hadn't had much of a chance to explore the butler's quarters before receiving David's message, she was glad there wasn't a need to. Compared to the lavish decor of the mansion, this section was like the thrift-store knock-off, filled with cheap furniture and a decades-old television that still had a rabbit-ear antenna. In truth, it was probably the creepiest place she'd seen in the entire property because it was like stepping back into one of the many foster homes of her childhood, none of which she wanted to revisit.

She was simply anxious to rejoin her husband and father so they could put this night behind them. Pulling the door to the butler's quarters closed behind her, she hurried back down the corridor leading to the kitchen. Emma didn't linger in that room at all, pushing through the swinging doors into the square room, then she passed through the propped open door into the dining hall. She paused at the sideboard to replace the candelabra she'd borrowed. Perhaps it was her imagination toying with her again, but she swore there was a faint whiff of smoke in the air - even before she blew out the four candles she'd been utilizing. She dismissed the improbable thought while she flicked the power button on the flashlight, readying it to light her path back to the vestibule. She was exhausted and eager to go home, but the next sound she heard sent chills all the way to her core and ushered in a gut-wrenching sense of deja-vu.

She heard her father's voice - but this time, it wasn't coming through the radio. He was shouting, loud enough that she could hear him clearly, but it was precisely what he was shouting that terrified her - _Killian's name_.

* * *

Still searching for a way to gain access to the possible attic space above him, Killian was naturally surprised to hear the sound of David's voice on the radio, especially his announcement that the three adolescents had been located. Perhaps his weary mind was playing tricks on him, but Killian was certain that the faint, distant voices were continuing to call to him. Maybe not _to_ him per se, but they were undoubtedly attempting to communicate with someone. They whispered to him in jumbled phrases: " _Can you hear us?" "Is it this one?"_ He wasn't able to make sense of all their messages, but clearly his ears betrayed him if these disembodied voices did not belong to the lads and lass they sought.

No matter, he thought, closing the door to one of the bed chambers as he turned back toward the staircase. The youngsters had been found and were safe with David so their work here was done and he could now happily return to the ground level to rejoin his wife. If all went as planned, he'd be tucked back into his own bed within the hour, and since technically this was still Emma's shift, he'd leave the infernal paperwork to her.

As he threw a quick glance over the railing before descending the curving stairs, he could make out a beam of light from an electronic torch illuminating the vestibule below him. David was speaking to the three teens, apparently chastising them for their reckless decision to enter this dwelling, but it was at the sound of one of the boys responding to David's questioning that Killian took pause on the top step. The entire time he'd been on the second floor, Killian had been certain that he'd been hearing the voices of those adolescents, but listening to the the boy's voice now, it most certainly did not match any he'd heard.

If he hadn't been hearing the missing teenagers speaking, just whose voices had he been listening to?

Was there someone else trapped in this damnable mansion too? He knew the previous Author, Isaac, had once been imprisoned here. Were there others?

"Everyone accounted for?" Killian called down to his father-in-law before taking another step.

"Just waiting on Emma," David replied, "but the rest of the gang is all here." Killian nodded an affirmative, not that David could see the movement of his head. There was sufficient light provided by his lantern and David's modern torch for Killian to clearly make out the shapes of four individuals standing in the entryway. So, shrugging off his lingering doubt, he placed his hand on the banister to guide his way in the dark, and continued his descent.

But then he heard it again, a tiny wisp in his ear: " _Need this one…"_ Who was talking to him? Killian asked himself, pausing once again halfway down the stairs. He rotated his head, glancing back toward the landing above him just as the unseen force struck. Before he knew who or what had hit him, he found himself tumbling down the remaining steps. Unable to grasp anything that would help him gain purchase, momentum carried him to the marble floor at the bottom. There was a shout of his name in those fleeting seconds, but Killian wouldn't recall hearing it as his head and body collided with the unyielding marble and he swiftly succumbed to unconsciousness.

* * *

Hearing her father shouting Killian's name sent a renewed shiver down Emma's spine - David rarely used Killian's given name and there was alarm in his voice. The combination spurred a sense of urgency that sent her dashing out of the dining hall, through the darkness of the corridor towards the entryway, running as quickly as she could without fear of colliding with furniture or walls in the dim light. Reaching the vestibule, she stumbled into Killian's broken lantern before recognizing the silhouettes of her father, kneeling at the bottom of the stairs, and those of the three teenagers hovering above, but she couldn't make out where her husband was until she passed the staircase.

It took her a moment to realize that David was actually kneeling beside Killian as her husband was sprawled out on the floor, and he didn't appear to be moving. "Killian!" she exclaimed, dropping to her knees next to her father, momentarily ignoring the three gawking teens who'd drawn them into this mess in the first place. "What happened?"

"I don't really know," David replied, shifting to his left so his daughter could move in closer. "One minute, he was asking if everyone was accounted for, and I said everyone but you was here. Next thing I knew, he stopped halfway down the steps and looked up toward the landing like something startled him, and then he fell. It was like his feet slipped right out from under him and he tumbled down those last eight or nine stairs and hit the floor hard."

"Are you kidding me?" one of the boys spoke up, although David wasn't really sure which one was speaking. However, what the teen was about to say was going to change their perception of everything that they'd experienced. "He didn't fall - something came up behind him and pushed him!"

"Pushed him?" Emma almost didn't believe what she'd heard as she tried to determine how severely her husband might be injured. "What do you mean? Who pushed him?"

"I can't really say it was a _who_. More like a _what_ …" the boy continued. "I think it was the same shadowy blob we've been chasing all night…"

Shadowy blob? Emma tried to contemplate exactly the boy's description meant as her fingertips found a swollen bump at Killian's temple, figuring there would be a matching one on the back of his skull based on how he'd landed. "He's got a nasty bump here, but I can't see if there's anything worse because it's too dark."

"Hook's lantern is shattered so it won't help. I've got another flashlight in the truck though," David offered. "I'll go get it and I'll be right back." David stood and directed his attention back to the teenagers. "You three - you're coming with me so I can get you home before your parents worry any more."

"But we want to know what happens…" Aiden said, his eyes pleading to stay, but David was having none of this.

"You're going home and so are we - as soon as Emma can make sure Hook's okay," David stated. "Let's go." David gave Aiden a little shove towards the front door but it was Tyler who reached it first. The teen turned the glass knob, but when he tried to tug the door open, it didn't budge.

"Sheriff..., the door won't open," Tyler stated. "I think it's locked."

"From the inside? We didn't lock the door when we came in," Emma said as she glanced over suspiciously.

"It won't do anything," Tyler reiterated, anxiety creeping into his voice, fearing they might be trapped again.

"Maybe it's just stuck?" David suggested as he gave it a try, but he also failed to open the front door. "He's right. It won't open but it isn't locked. It's like there's a force field or something holding it shut."

"Or a protective spell?" Emma shuddered, instantly reminded of this mansion's history.

"We're trapped in this house again, aren't we?" Aiden groaned, his excitement over chasing ghosts in an abandoned mansion now fully dissipated.

"There has to be a way out," Emma assured them, although her gut kept trying to deny it. Her immediate concern though was for her husband's welfare. She suspected he had a concussion, but it was just too dark in here to get a good look. Her fingertips gently explored his head and neck, feeling for injuries and finding a wet, sticky substance matting his hair. Killian was bleeding, but she couldn't tell where it was coming from or how severe it was. "Damn…," she sighed. "We need more light. I can't see how badly Killian is hurt and I need to make sure we _all_ get out of this miserable place. There are a bunch of big candle holders in the dining hall. I used one of them myself earlier tonight. Would someone go bring a few of them in here?"

"I'll go," David offered.

"I'll go with you, Sheriff Nolan," Angie chimed in. "We can bring twice as many that way."

"Alright then. We'll be right back," David promised.

"Thanks," Emma replied with the faintest of smiles before turning to the two boys. "You two - can you get a cell signal over by the door?" She dug her phone from her jacket pocket and passed it to Aiden. "If you get a signal, call your mothers so they won't worry…"

"Sorry, not getting a signal, Sheriff," Aiden responded as he returned the phone a minute or two later, just as David and Angie emerged from the shadows with candelabras in hand.

David rested his two candle holders on the stairs behind Emma while Angie placed hers on the floor. "Want to do the honors and light these up?" he asked Emma.

"I wasn't able to light them with magic earlier so - here…" Emma rummaged through her pocket for the lighter and then held it out for her father. "You'll have to use this…" Taking the lighter from her outstretched hand, David flicked it a few times to ignite the flame then hurriedly moved from candle to candle igniting the wicks. The flickering candlelight immediately brightened the room, enabling Emma a better view of Killian's bumps and bruises.

Regardless of whether Killian had actually been pushed or simply tripped and fell down the staircase, he'd struck his head hard. The swollen contusion that Emma had felt at his temple was already darkening to a purplish-red and was a fair indicator he'd struck more than just the marble floor. His right shoulder was contorted in an unnatural manner that suggested dislocation, most likely from a futile attempt to stop his descent. She still couldn't be certain whether he'd broken any bones, but his lingering unconsciousness was making her wary.

"Think you can heal him?" David inquired, interrupting her thoughts.

"Maybe…," Emma replied tentatively. "Hopefully...especially if we're stuck in here. My magic has been a little wonky though. I should have been able to light those candles earlier… What if I can't do it?"

"Let's worry about crossing that bridge if we come to it," David tried to encourage her with that old adage. Emma eked out a weak half-smile as she hovered her right hand over Killian's torso with her palm facing him. She closed her eyes to concentrate but she couldn't will the magic within her to come to the surface. She could feel the tingle of her powers just beneath her skin, but that was as far as they would reach. Something seemed to be draining the magic away from her right when she needed it the most.

"Damnit!" Emma exclaimed in frustration. Magic was failing her and she wasn't even sure why. Her gaze drifted downward to Killian's face as she lowered her hand to tenderly stroke his stubbled jaw, her touch trailing across his cheek and finally coming to rest on the patch of skin where his neck tapered into his shoulder. "I promise, we'll figure this out," she whispered to her husband's ear.

The last thing Emma would have suspected at that moment was that Killian, even in his unresponsive state, was about to provide the answer.

* * *

Killian remembered falling.

Perhaps he'd missed a step in the darkness and lost his footing, but then, no - he hadn't. He recalled that he'd paused and turned toward the voice in his ear and then he was tumbling down the staircase. He knew that his head was throbbing and his shoulder ached as if someone were trying to wrench it from its socket. Forcing his eyelids open, he also felt the twinge of discomfort in his left ankle and determined he would probably need David's assistance with some additional light to assess the damage. If it wasn't too bad and he could still put weight on it, he'd be content to hobble out of here and worry about the injured joint later, but if it was severely sprained or worse - broken, he would need Emma's assistance with a little reparative magic.

But it was as his eyes adjusted to the lighting, Killian began to realize that something was very different about his surroundings than before he'd fallen. First off, why was it so bright? Even if his lantern was still alight, it wouldn't be creating this level of brightness. Had he knocked himself out so severely that it was now morning? Second, why wasn't he hearing any familiar voices? He didn't hear Emma, nor could he hear David, which seemed highly improbable. If he'd been injured that severely, Emma wouldn't likely have strayed far from his side until he awakened - especially if he'd been unconscious for several hours.

A sudden trepidation enveloped him as he feared the worst - what if he'd broken his neck and was back in the bloody Underworld? But no, there wasn't a hellish red hue to this light and truthfully, he doubted that had he crossed over, his afterlife would still look like the vestibule of the Sorcerer's mansion. No, there was definitely something else afoot here, Killian thought as he struggled to sit upright, ignoring the protest of his battered skull.

All around him, there was a smoke-like haze which obscured the familiar details as he sought out the faces of his family or even those of the three adolescents they'd been tasked to rescue. Where were they? Certainly Emma wouldn't have abandoned him in this place…

"Captain Hook," Killian heard his title and moniker spoken clearly, the voice unknown to him. "We've been seeking someone like you for a very long time."

"Have you now?" Killian countered, his eyebrow lifting to match the smirk on his lips as he challenged the unseen speaker. "Well then, show yourself. I much prefer to be able to see those who address me."

"We're all around you, Captain," the disembodied voice stated, leaving Killian momentarily baffled until the realization struck him, his cockiness vanishing in an immediate recoil.

It was the light that he previously couldn't explain - the light emanating from these unseen beings he now sensed surrounding him.

"Who are you?" Killian demanded, his voice now wrought with a hint of fear as he tried to comprehend what had become of him. " _What_ the bloody hell are you?"

"You've no need to fear us, Captain. So few exist who are able to see and hear us, which is precisely why we need your assistance."

"Assistance with what, pray tell?" Killian wanted to know, nearly certain that he must be hallucinating. The blow to his cranium must have been far worse than he'd originally believed. "What sort of game is this? And where are Emma and the others?"

"Still right here with us. They are merely on a different plane…"

"Different plane?" A confused Killian tried to wrap his weary brain around it all. Nothing was making sense. "What nonsense is this?"

"This is the inbetween," the being informed him. "The realm of souls trapped between the world of the living and the realm of the dead. These souls are left to linger as nameless, faceless spirits, unable to cross over. Most are cursed to remain here because their souls are incomplete and do not allow passage into the afterlife."

"Inbetween?" Killian's head was spinning as he contemplated the veracity of what he'd just heard. "Wait...are you telling me that I've died and became trapped here as well?"

"No, of course not. You remain among the living, merely in a comatose state in which we are able to communicate directly with you." The apparition's assurance wasn't exactly quelling Killian's unease. "You, however, possess a unique quality - you have crossed into the realm of the dead and were returned to the living. It has given you the ability to hear our disembodied voices and now, to see our unearthly form. We've been searching for someone such as you who could serve as our conduit to the living world so that we may inform them of our plight. We only wish to be freed from this form of purgatory."

"How would that be possible?" Killian wondered. "I've been to the Underworld, yes, but I found that the souls trapped there were encumbered by their own unfinished business. They don't generally have the intervention of the living available to them as I did. What do you believe is different about your situation?"

"Our souls were trapped in limbo because we all died here in this land without our hearts, and the magic that preserves those hearts prevents us from passing on."

Killian had to admit that he was surprised by the answer. He'd known that people whose hearts had been ripped out and crushed could pass into the Underworld - encountering some who would move on and others remaining eternally cursed, but he'd never imagined that a different fate might await those who had perished without their hearts within their bodies. He immediately thought of the dozens - maybe hundreds - of glowing hearts that Cora and Regina had collected over the decades of their respective reigns of terror. Were these illuminated beings now conversing with him just innocent victims of the Queen of Hearts and her daughter, the Evil Queen?

"How do you expect me to help you?" Killian asked, his mind wandering with far too many thoughts of how this conversation might even be possible. Was he really still laying in an unconscious heap at the bottom of the mansion's ornate staircase while his subconscious conversed with spirits of the dead?

"As I said, your unique ability to serve as our bridge to the living world allows them to hear us through you…" Before he could protest, Killian realized that the entity was encroaching on him, rapidly closing the distance as the light grew even more brilliant until it completely enveloped him, its presence seemingly blending into his own.


	3. Chapter 3

_Happy Wednesday! I've got Chapter Three of The Inbetween ready to share with you today, but as before, I am going to preface this chapter with a warning that it does contain a non-consensual spirit possession so for anyone bothered by such, skip to the second part of this chapter._

* * *

Emma wasn't quite sure what to think when she felt Killian's body shudder against hers, the spasm startling her only a split second before his eyelids flew open. She felt his muscles tense as he tried unsuccessfully to sit upright so she placed her hand atop his chest and with a little gentle pressure, urged him to remain lying down.

"Easy there," she urged. "I wouldn't recommend trying to sit up just yet. You've got a nasty bump on your head and you're bleeding so, until I can heal you, you might want to take it slow."

"Slow?" Killian asked as he came around and Emma initially dismissed his tone as one of confusion, but that little nag in her gut was making itself known again, a sensation that only intensified with her husband's next statement. "I suppose I've forgotten the fragility of a physical body…"

"Are you feeling okay?" Emma asked quizzically, one eyebrow quirked in suspicion. "You must have struck your head harder than I thought…"

"The name is Jeremiah," came a voice from Killian's throat that definitely did not belong to the pirate - the accent and the pitch both dramatically different. Emma yanked her hand back from his chest, her body unconsciously reeling away in shock from this man who looked like her husband but no longer sounded like him. Unencumbered by her hand, the man calling himself _Jeremiah_ bolted upright, apparently unaware or merely oblivious to the injuries Killian had suffered tumbling down the stairs.

"Killian - what the hell is going on?" Emma demanded, apprehension creeping into her voice as her eyes shot over to David. She gestured for her father and the three teens to stay back until she figured out what was happening. Why was her husband claiming to be someone else and why did he no longer seem bothered by the head injury that had him knocked out cold just minutes earlier? She wouldn't dare admit that she was a little bit frightened, but she absolutely needed answers.

Unbeknownst to her, across the room, Aiden had covertly pressed the Record button on his cell phone, praying that his battery would hold out long enough to capture some amazing paranormal evidence. He wasn't certain exactly what they were witnessing, but this was precisely what they'd come here to see and he knew it had to be documented.

"The Captain isn't in control of his faculties at the moment," the stranger who looked like Killian explained. "As I said, my name is Jeremiah and I've assumed control of his physical being so that I can speak to you, the living, once again so that I may plead for your assistance."

"You want my help?" Emma scoffed. "You take possession of my husband's body and expect me to help you? You really think that's the best way to go about this?" She may not have fully grasped what was transpiring, but she knew this wasn't Killian speaking and she'd be damned if she wasn't going to defend him. But who _or what_ was she actually talking to?

"I'm afraid there was no other choice. My kind have waited a very long time to locate someone who could facilitate this conversation for us. The Captain's unique return to life after death made him the perfect vessel. Few had even been able to hear us before now."

"There are more of you?" Emma gulped, wondering which of them might become possessed next.

"Yes, there are several amongst our numbers," _Jeremiah_ replied. "All of us forced to linger in this inbetween, unable to enter our afterlife because our hearts are being preserved by dark magic."

"Inbetween? Like some kind of purgatory?" Emma questioned, unfamiliar with the term Jeremiah had used.

"Purgatory would actually be a welcome blessing as it would mean we've at least passed into the realm of the dead. Our state is far worse - incomplete souls trapped in a horrid plane between life and death, gathered here in this mansion where we can draw on its magic and energy to sustain us."

The ghostly statement got Emma thinking. "You and the other spirits - you've been creating the weird lights and sounds that townspeople have been calling me about?" Emma asked, now beginning to understand the correlation.

"Yes. As All Hallows' Eve draws near, we are able to utilize the expanding magic this season brings to manipulate objects and materialize for brief moments. It has been our only means of communication with the living world since the Apprentice left us."

"The Apprentice - the old man - he knew you were here?" Emma asked for clarification.

"He did indeed. He didn't venture into the main house very often, but he was aware of our presence. He would sometimes speak to us, but he didn't possess the ability to assist us." Emma sat there as Jeremiah continued, slightly dumbfounded as to how this disgruntled spirit would believe that she could help them when the man who had known all of the secrets of this house - hell, the man who had known most of the secrets of the town - couldn't help.

"What makes you think that I'll be able to do anything for you?" Emma queried.

"As you are among the first to hear of our plight, we can at last divulge the truth. With the Apprentice, he could only gather bits and pieces of our stories, not enough to matter. He understood that he was in the presence of disembodied souls, but not why we are cursed to the inbetween…" Jeremiah tried to explain, but Emma interrupted to get to his point quicker.

"Why are you here?" she asked bluntly.

"We are all here because we passed on here in this realm, but without our still-living hearts," Jeremiah stated, not the answer that Emma had expected. Even David was so taken aback by the spirit's response that he chimed in to the conversation with his own half-statement, half-question.

"The Evil Queen took your hearts…," David said, trying to keep his tone even and nonjudgmental toward the Regina they now knew, but not without recollection of the atrocities she'd committed in the past. "Before the curse?"

Jeremiah nodded, gradually becoming aware of the strain he was placing on his host's body as he began to sense the faint trembling of Killian's extremities. "I was one of the Queen's guards before the curse. She made it common practice to remove all of her Black Guards' hearts so we would experience no pity nor remorse. She expected us to do our duties without emotion so collecting our hearts ensured it. When the curse brought us to this land, none of us was aware that we didn't possess our hearts until you, Emma Swan, broke that curse. When those memories came flooding back, we found ourselves victims of a new curse. For the twenty-eight years in which time was frozen, we were protected, but the moment that the Savior broke the Queen's curse, we were mortal once again and one by one, those of us now trapped here in the inbetween died. Without our hearts, all still preserved by the Queen's magic, we remain caught in this void - unable to cross over."

Emma sighed, recognizing the difficulty that they were going to face trying to complete this task. "After all of these years, do you think that Regina even remembers who all of those enchanted hearts belong to?"

"I believe she did return some of the hearts that she could identify a while back - when she was trying to show everyone that she could change and do good," David replied with a slight shrug. "But she and Cora collected so many, we might never know…"

"That's what I was afraid of," Emma frowned. "Where would we even begin?"

"We need to enchantment to be removed or the hearts to be crushed to release the missing piece of our souls. It's the only way we can free our spirits of this place," Jeremiah stated very matter-of-factly, but Emma immediately reminded him of an important bit of information he was either overlooking or nonchalant about.

"We can't just go around crushing all of the hearts in Regina's vault," Emma said firmly. "We don't know if those hearts belong to the living or the dead and I'm not going to put innocent lives at risk to free a few poltergeists. There has to be a different way…"

"We're going to have to talk to Regina,but we can't do that if we're all locked in here," David reminded the spirit. "We need you to remove whatever spell is keeping us here if you want our help."

Emma stared into the face of her husband, but made her plea to Jeremiah and the other ghosts. "If we agree to help you, we're going to need some cooperation from you. First, like my dad said, you need to drop whatever spell is keeping us from exiting so we can get help from friends outside of these walls. Second, I need you to stop draining my magic so that I can heal Killian. We need a little good faith from you, so, what do you say? Do we have an agreement?"

"We agree to lower the protective barrier, but we cannot allow you to heal the Captain just yet. It is only through his injured state that we can communicate with you," Jeremiah told her, but Emma wasn't going to relent on that request.

"I think you're failing to understand that if Killian dies, you're back to square one. I can see his body shaking with pain - you have to be able to feel that. He'll be useless to you if you push too hard and his heart gives out," Emma's voice was practically begging at this point, unsure how much strain Jeremiah's unwanted possession of Killian's body had already placed on him. "You said that Killian could hear you before. He'll still be able to hear you after I heal the worst of his injuries. If you want my help, this is non-negotiable."

The spirit inhabiting Killian's form contemplated her words for a few agonizing seconds, then at last, lowered his head in a nod. "Agreed." It was the only word he spoke as Killian's body fell limp. He collapsed into Emma's arms as she lunged forward to catch him before he struck the marble flooring again just as the dark shadow-like form of the spirit vanished, passing through a nearby wall.

Emma gently lowered Killian's head and shoulders until they were resting on the floor and brought her hands up over his torso as before, smiling broadly as the familiar glow of her magic illuminated the vestibule. She hovered her palm above his chest then swooped it up over his forehead in one rapid, circular motion, pleased to watch the swollen bruise at his temple disappear with her healing powers. She had no real expectation that Killian would wake instantly from his ordeal, certain that a paranormal takeover of his body had likely taken a demanding physical toll on him.

"Now what?" David asked as the glow dissipated, plunging them back into the murkiness of the flickering candlelight. "And what do we do about them?" He pointed to the three adolescents who had thankfully remained silent and out of the way in the midst of a spirit possession. They'd come here searching for ghosts and probably ended up getting a lot more than they'd bargained for.

"You go - take them home. Their parents have worried enough tonight," Emma instructed. "Then go wake up Regina. This is a mess she created so she can help sort it out."

"Agreed," David laughed, although there was a bit of a nervous vibe to the chuckle. He'd probably find himself staring down a fireball waking Regina at this hour.

"But we don't want to go home yet," Tyler whined. "This is exactly what we came here to see. You can't make us leave just when things are getting good…"

"We can and we are," Emma snapped back at the teen. "You are all going home and if I catch any of you back here tonight, I will have all of you arrested for trespassing and you can spend the weekend in my jail, followed by a month of community service…"

"Wouldn't that be up to a judge?" Aiden countered as he turned off the camera on his phone, hoping neither Emma nor David noticed, but Emma wasn't in any mood to argue and she'd already caught on to his attempted stealth.

"It would be, and I happen to know that Judge Broome usually sides with the mayor. Since your actions tonight are indirectly causing Mayor Mills to be awakened at nearly 3AM, a month of community service might end up being too light of a punishment…" The teens were going home, there was no fighting that, but she wasn't finished with them just yet. "I'm also confiscating your phones and that camera until I have a chance to review anything you recorded tonight. This isn't going on the internet."

"Hand 'em over," David said as the teens reluctantly did as instructed. He pocketed all of the devices, intending to take them to the station later that night, or maybe the next morning. "Okay, now come on, you three. Let's get you home now and we'll discuss any charges you might be facing in daylight. Emma, I'll be back as quickly as I can and with reinforcements."

"Thanks," she responded, worried that this night was going to grow even longer. What if they couldn't find a way to help these spirits? Would she and Killian end up trapped within these walls for eternity with them? That was a fate she didn't even want to consider as she pulled her husband closer to her, his head now resting on her knees until he awakened.

* * *

Per Mrs. Sprat's request, David deposited all three teenagers on her doorstep before making a quick call to a still wide-awake Snow with updates. Then, steeling his composure, he made the call to Regina, fully expecting her wrath. It took three attempts at calling her landline phone and another two to her cell phone before she finally answered, none-too-joyful to receive a call from Prince Charming at 3AM - but honestly, David wasn't feeling overly guilty at waking her. This did boil down to a disastrous mess of her creation anyway.

By the time he had pulled into the mayor's driveway ten minutes later, the sky was pouring down a bitter cold rain. He made a dash for the front stoop and rang the doorbell, shaking away some of the raindrops clinging to his skin and clothing as Regina swung open the door, frowning at both the sight of the rain and the dripping wet David on her doorstep.

"Get in here before you get any more drenched than you already are," she grumbled, taking a step to her right so he could pass.

"Thanks," David smiled at her as he entered, courteously wiping his feet on the mat so he didn't track in too much water. "Sorry to have to drag you out of bed in the middle of the night, but we've got an unusual situation going on that's going to require your help."

"Of course...because we never have any unusual situations here in Storybrooke at 3 in the morning...," she quipped, sweeping her arm in a gesture towards her parlor. "I suppose I should ask exactly what this _unusual situation_ might be since all you mentioned in your call was that Emma and Hook were trapped in the Sorcerer's mansion."

"Well, at the moment, they aren't exactly trapped, but they're still caught in a rather awkward position," David clarified, but he knew his explanation was going to become less believable as he went on. "Let me start by saying that the mansion is definitely haunted."

"Haunted, really?" she scoffed. "You believe in ghosts now?"

"Until about an hour ago, I didn't," David replied while leaning against the arm of a black leather loveseat. "But after what I witnessed, there's no doubt in my mind that it's haunted…"

"Go on…" Regina remained skeptical, but there was something in Charming's body language that indicated he wasn't making this up.

"Okay, I'll start at the beginning, but I'll try to be as brief as possible. Emma got a call from Mrs. Sprat whose son and a couple of his friends went off ghost hunting and didn't come home on time. Anyway, Emma asked for some help searching that huge house, so she dragged Hook and I out of bed, and while we did find the kids, we also found something rather creepy. The mansion is apparently inhabited by a bunch of disembodied spirits who are trapped in what they called the _inbetween_ because they died without their hearts. So, as you see, this is definitely your area of expertise."

"It's no secret that I've crushed a lot of hearts in my villainous past, but I tried my best to return those I could. I just don't know who all of them belong to anymore, but I also don't understand why it would have caused anyone to become a ghost. There were plenty of people we encountered in the Underworld whose hearts I had crushed…"

"Well, tonight, I watched my injured son-in-law become possessed by one of those spirits who had quite a tale to tell. One of the teenagers tried to sneak a video of the interaction on his phone, which we confiscated. Look at this - it's Killian speaking, but at the same time, it isn't…" David dug Aiden's phone from his jacket pocket and pulled up the four minute long video. The image wasn't really clear due to the minimal light, but Regina could still make out the form of Killian Jones, seated on the floor, Emma an arm's distance away. The sound had significant static, but the voices were distinct enough to make out and David was right, the words coming from Killian's mouth weren't his own. "The ghost told us that their hearts weren't crushed, just taken. What's keeping them here is their hearts remain magically preserved in your vault while the owners' bodies passed away."

"Oh…," Regina stammered, her eyes drifting from the phone screen to the hardwood floor beneath her feet as David sensed a flush of guilt overtaking her. After a pensive pause, she continued. "Never thought about that possibility, but how can we be sure that's really the case?"

"Regina, I have no reason to doubt the story," David stated. "Those teenagers and I watched as some black, shadowy figure pushed Hook down a flight of stairs, then took possession of his unconscious body so it could speak to us. The ghost even identified himself - Jeremiah, a former member of your Black Guard. Name sound familiar?"

"Possibly…," was her reply, but her actions said otherwise. "What exactly do you expect me to do?"

"Those hearts in your vault - is it your magic that keeps them glowing?"

"Of course, it is. It's a spell that my mother initiated decades ago and I followed along. I suppose that without the enchantment, hearts that belonged to dead persons would go dim."

"Is there a way to remove the enchantment? To undo the spell?"

"Maybe, but why should I?" she asked indignantly. "They're just spirits…"

"Because if these spirits can draw enough power from that mansion to enact their own protective barrier which trapped us inside, they could pose a threat to the entire town. They're obviously pissed off - I mean they did shove Hook down a flight of stairs, so we know they can affect things in the living world. Jeremiah said that as it gets closer to Halloween, they become more powerful, so - what if they leave the mansion? What if they possess someone else? Regina, the right thing to do is to help them find a way to cross over."

"Fine," she relented, David's argument convincing her. "I'll see what I can do to reverse the spell in the morning. I can probably find a way to lift the enchantment from the dead hearts…"

"Good. And since it's already morning, I'll go let Emma know that you're working on it."

"I meant morning - as in daylight, Charming…"

"I know, but I don't think we have that kind of time. Emma and Hook are still stuck inside that house with those angry spirits. She cut a bargain with the ghosts so they'd stop siphoning her magic long enough for her to heal most of Hook's injuries, but he was still out cold when the ghosts allowed the teens and I to leave. I don't think magical healing is particularly effective on concussions either. You and I both know that there is a lot of strange, powerful magic inside that mansion and these spirits know how to utilize it. I don't want to see anyone else I love getting hurt because you didn't get enough beauty sleep!" David halted his words there, realizing after they'd left his tongue that they might have been a tad too harsh. For a split-second, he was tempted to apologize, but instead, he held his ground.

Regina scowled silently at him for a moment while she decided how to respond. "You know that I've turned men into toads for speaking that way to me…" David swallowed hard at the possibility he'd crossed a line, but then Regina's icy stare softened. "But I get it. This town faces enough supernatural challenges on a daily basis so adding cranky ghosts to the mix is a particularly bad idea. I'll head down to the vault and start working on a reversal spell as soon as I get some coffee brewing. Hopefully, Emma can hold the ghosts at bay until I figure it out."


	4. Chapter 4

After the troublesome spirit agreed to stop interfering with her magic, Emma assumed that they might be left in peace for a while, but it didn't take long to realize just how wrong that assumption had been. She'd sat on the chilly marble tile of the vestibule for nearly fifteen minutes after her father had left to take the three meddling teens home, all the while cradling Killian's head on her lap. She was becoming increasingly concerned the longer he remained unconscious, but while she understood the effect a concussion might have had, she had no gauge to measure damage that spirit possession could have inflicted.

The shadows flitting about them were unnerving, maybe even more disconcerting than her run in with Charlotte, the giant tarantula. This mansion was a free-standing reservoir of both light and dark magic and it was increasingly evident that the ghosts haunting the place knew how to manipulate it. The spirits were already creating physical barriers and manifesting their presence around her in multiple ways. Now that she knew these entities were surrounding her, she could connect the smoky odor in the dining hall to their attention seeking, but what else might they be capable of? What if there was no way to free them from this realm? Halloween was only a little over a week away and if it was true that their power would grow stronger as All Hallows' Eve approached, the entire town might be at risk. Storybrooke had more than enough magic so they'd have no reason to remain cloistered in the mansion.

The encounter with Jeremiah had left Emma so jumpy that when Killian did finally wake, she quite nearly bounced his skull off of the floor with her sudden jolt. At least he hadn't seemed bothered by her skittishness as his eyes opened wide and he sucked in a deep breath, exhaling very slowly while adjusting to the flickering candles. After a few brief seconds, he recognized his wife's features hovering above him.

"Killian?" she asked, hesitantly, not sure who she might be dealing with this time.

"Aye," he moaned as he raised his throbbing head off of her thigh, fighting through a swell of nausea as he pushed himself into a sitting position.

"It's really you this time?" She wasn't entirely convinced.

"Really me? What the bloody hell is that supposed to mean?" he retorted, her question making little sense to his cloudy mind until the memory of falling down these same stairs he was sitting next to came flooding back. He remembered striking his head and hallucinating a conversation with some sort of glowing light beings - a conversation that apparently wasn't an injury-driven hallucination after all. His gaze drew back to Emma's face as it now dawned on him that she wasn't sure who she was speaking to - who was in control. That realization came with the terrifying recollection that one of those spirits had invaded his incapacitated body to deliver a message from the inbetween realm to Emma and the others on this side. "Yes, Swan, it's really me."

"I'm so sorry, Killian," she sobbed lightly as she embraced him. "I shouldn't have brought you here. Those ghosts could have killed you…"

"I'm fine, Love," he assured her, although he doubted that she was any more convinced of it than he was. His thoughts kept reminding him of the torture the Crocodile had put him through, controlling him like a hapless puppet while clutching his heart and threatening to crush it. Having this spectre take over his physical body for even those few, short minutes had been equally invasive, and even though it had departed his body for now, Killian could still hear its voice and feared it may attempt to possess him again at any time. "The spirit departed - so to speak. You're just left with your dashingly handsome, pirate husband in your company."

"Okay, you're fine," she chuckled, relieved that he was well enough to crack a lame joke. "Suggestion though - how about we move off of this ice cold marble and into that parlor instead?"

"Sounds lovely," he laughed as Emma stood up then extended her hand toward him to help pull him to his feet. He accepted her gesture and while she gripped his hook, he pushed himself upward slowly to appease his still aching head, but as soon as he put weight on his left ankle, he received a very painful reminder. "Damn…," he hissed, biting back a yelp at the searing discomfort and nearly collapsing back to the floor. Emma shifted her grip from his hook to his upper arm to steady her suddenly wobbly husband.

"You alright?" she asked, worried this might be a nasty side-effect of Jeremiah's doing.

"Sorry, this may take me a tad longer as I fear that I may have buggered my ankle a bit…"

"Oh - I never thought about your ankle! I'm so sorry... I could feel the bump on your head and the dislocated shoulder, but I didn't think about injuries to your legs…Here, let me fix it…"

Killian held up his hand to quash her rambling. "'Tis fine," he said with an almost-genuine smile. "I'll manage. We've far worse to worry about than my ankle, but I could use a bit of assistance…"

"Of course," she replied, wrapping her arm around his waist as she tugged his hooked arm around her neck so he could lean into her while they hobbled into the parlor. "Hang on, we're going to need some light…" With a swish of her wrist, one of the candelabras lifted off the staircase, eerily floating ahead of them through mid-air as Emma's magic used it to guide their way into the next room where she deposited Killian onto a sofa draped with a dingy sheet. Once he was settled, she guided the candle holder onto a console table that hugged the wall behind them, then casually flopped down onto the sofa beside Killian, careful not to jostle his ankle which he'd propped on a footstool he'd located nearby.

"How long do you figure it will take for Regina to reverse the spell?" he asked after a brief, awkward silence.

"Assuming she actually agrees to help, hopefully not too long," Emma replied with an unintended sigh as she thought about potential consequences. "Of course, I don't have any idea what sort of spell keeps those hearts enchanted so there may not even be a way to reverse it…"

"Remember, the walls do have ears, Love," Killian whispered. " For our sakes, I hope there is a solution as it appears our ghostly hosts are growing restless. Rather impatient for those with eternity before them…"

"So, you really are still able to hear them?" Emma asked. "The ghost, Jeremiah, he said you'd been able to hear their voices, but we couldn't exactly be sure he was telling the truth."

"I can hear them. Apparently as a side-effect of my return from the dead, I possess the ability to hear the disembodied voices of these spirits. It would also be the reason they chose me to deliver their message."

"Yeah, Jeremiah told us that too, but what are they saying?"

"At the moment, it seems their loyalties are divided. Some don't believe that Regina will be inclined help them cross over - and rightfully so. They remember her as a very different woman."

"I can understand that, but it still was not an excuse to hurt you. How's the head anyway? I'm never quite sure about healing head injuries - especially since you seem so prone to them…"

Killian threw back a bemused smirk, unconsciously raising his hand to massage the spot on the back of his skull where the previously swollen bruise had been healed. "Hurts a little - like a dull headache, but it's my ankle that's barking at me at the present."

"Sure you don't want me to heal it?" she offered.

"Well, if the lady insists…," he grinned, knowing it would be pointless to argue. He also conceded that not being mobility-impaired could prove rather beneficial should they find it necessary to run later. So, with a brilliant flash of light and an ever-so-slight wave of her hand, her magic rendered the injury fully healed and Killian quite grateful to be mostly pain-free. "Thank you."

"Anytime. It probably won't be long before they start drawing from my magic again so we should take advantage of it while we still can." Emma started to push herself up from the sofa, but Killian stopped her, his fingers gently encircling her wrist as her eyes took in his confused expression. "What?"

"Where are you going?"

"I was just going to look out the window to see if my dad was back," she assured him. "Not venturing out alone again…"

"I'm quite certain Dave will contact us by radio when he returns. For now, it may be best if we stay put."

"Okay, agreed. But if we're going to be stuck here for a while, I need coffee…" Emma flicked her wrist and a thermos of steaming hot coffee materialized in her open hand.

"Would have preferred rum," Killian grumbled.

"Don't you have your ever-present flask with you?"

"If I had been given more warning, I would have brought it, but someone impatiently roused me from our bed with little provocation…"

"Well, since you probably have a concussion, you don't need rum anyway." She unscrewed the thermos lid then poured a generous amount of the dark brew into the lid, using it as a cup. "I'll share though…" She placed the thermos on the floor next to her feet as as conjured up another treat - a bag of the tiny chocolate bars exactly like the one she'd purchased to pass out to trick-or-treaters on Halloween. Killian cocked a curious eyebrow at her as she tore through the plastic with her free hand and extracted one of the brightly wrapped candies. "What? I'm hungry too." His laugh came out almost as a snort as he shook his head - then snatched a couple of chocolates for himself. This pirate wasn't going to pass up a treat, especially while stuck sitting in a haunted, abandoned mansion awaiting his father-in-law's return with what they hoped would be good news.

Mercifully, it was only a few brief minutes until they heard the crackle of the radio coming to life with the sound of David's voice asking if they could hear him. Emma grabbed the radio from her belt clip and depressed the button to reply.

"Yes, we hear you," she replied.

"Good. I was a little worried that the ghosts might block everything again," David said, relieved that their best line of communication hadn't been severed.

"So far, they've kept their end of the bargain," Emma told him. "Have any news for us? Did you talk to Regina?"

"Yes. She's on her way to the vault. She thinks she might be able to find a spell that will lift the enchantment," David stated, but then he added another comment. "Just don't know how long this might take…"

"Okay, thanks," she responded, fully expecting to settle in for a long night.

"Do you want me to come back inside?" David asked. "Anything you need? More flashlights? Do you need me to wake up Whale and ask him about Hook's injury?" Emma chuckled at her worry-wart of a father, but despite his concern, both she and Killian agreed that he should stay outside.

"Appreciate it, Mate," Killian replied this time, intending to put his father-in-law's mind at ease. "All's well - for the moment at least, so we'd much rather have you out there."

"Acknowledged," David responded without commentary. He understood.

"Let us know as soon as you hear anything from Regina," Emma insisted.

"Will do. Be safe in there," was David's last statement before the radio and the room fell silent once again.

* * *

For the next hour, they waited impatiently - Emma and Killian inside the mansion's parlor and David parked out front. As the nighttime temperatures continued to drop, they were all struggling to stay warm. David tugged his jacket tighter around his torso, tempted to turn the engine back on so he could run the heater but he really preferred not to, fearing if he got the pickup's cab nice and toasty, he might also get drowsy. Inside the only slightly warmer confines of the mansion, Emma and Killian sat huddled together on the sofa, finishing off the last of the now lukewarm coffee, and she was doing her best to keep her husband talking. She was leary of allowing him to drift off to sleep until she was certain he was no longer fighting effects of the concussion.

For the moment, she felt relatively safe remaining in the parlor. At least there weren't any stairs around here and the overhead chandelier was smaller than many of the ones found in other rooms. Of course, how exactly did you remain safe from spirits like Jeremiah and his ghostly companions? Would her magic even have the slightest effect on them should they attack or would they entirely renege on their agreement and start draining her powers again?

"What's going on inside that pretty blonde head of yours, Love?" Killian broke the silence after noticing that she'd been staring into the inky, chilled liquid remaining in the bottom of the thermos lid for far too long.

"Just thinking about our ghostly companions here," she replied as she caught sight of a glowing orb off to her right which floated upward and vanished through the ceiling while her eyes followed it. "It's really disturbing to know you're being watched - especially when you can't see what's watching you."

Killian leaned closer to her, nuzzling her ear as he whispered "We could always give them a little show…" She didn't need to see the smirk on his face to know it was there, but instead of indulging him, she gave him a playful smack across his knee.

"Really?" she scowled as he pressed his lips to her neck. "You're impossible…"

"And you love me for it," he grinned as he repeated the words she'd spoken to him after rescuing him from Hades' torture in the Underworld, but any further amorous behavior was stifled by the crackle of static from the radio.

"You two awake in there?" David's voice asked over the static.

Emma reached for the radio that was resting on the arm of the sofa, nearly spilling the rest of the coffee in her haste. "Yes, we're awake," she replied to David's query. "Got news?"

"I do," David stated. "Regina just called and said that she thinks she found a spell that will work, but she's not sure she'll have any way to know if it actually worked on her end. She said the enchantment should fade away from any of the deceased hearts which should then free the spirits, but with all of the hearts in her possession, she isn't able to check every single one."

"Of course not...," Emma muttered sarcastically, but at least, this was some semblance of progress. "Okay… We know the ghosts have been watching us and probably listening to us all night so if anything happens to change, we'll hopefully be able to tell…" She took her thumb off of the Talk button as she turned to face her husband, her brow scrunched in thought. "What exactly do you think we should be looking or listening for?"

"Well, the spirits heard David," Killian informed her. "Their chatter started back up as soon as he gave us the news, but I can't make out precisely what they're saying… They're all just talking at once…" Killian squeezed his eyes shut while he simultaneously drew his arms up over his head, pressing them tightly against the side of his head to cover his ears as if trying to block out the cacophony of voices.

"Hey - are you okay?" Emma asked, growing concerned that the ghosts were preparing to attack should Regina's spell fail.

"I hear them… All of them… It's too much…" In all of their time together, she'd never seen Killian react with such a strong aversion to any sounds - nothing like this and especially not to anything she couldn't hear herself. Would it be considered impolite to tell ghosts to shut up?

But she didn't need to ask after all because before she could open her mouth, a blinding light flashed and lit up the room almost like a bolt of lightning, but without the accompanying thunder. It came and went within a split-second, followed by a gust of wind that came out of nowhere, extinguishing the candles and plunging the room into darkness.


	5. Chapter 5

_Time for the next chapter of my ghostly tale! The cliffhanger that ended the previous chapter is quickly revealed and partially resolved, but our heroes aren't out of danger yet._

* * *

 _What the hell just happened?_ Emma found herself asking for the umpteenth time tonight. There's been a brilliant burst of light and a blast of air that nearly knocked them off of the sofa, but honestly - what really happened? She had witnessed similar signs from curses breaking, whether from a True Love's Kiss or whatever the hell else broke curses around here, but this was an entirely different type of curse. Would the curse breaking to free the trapped spirits look or feel the same?

Sensing that her magic was still intact - for the moment, at least, Emma gave a quick swish of her hand to bring the candles back to life. Beside her, Killian was hunched over with his head lowered to his knees and arms still drawn tightly over his ears. "You okay?" she asked, giving his shoulder a little nudge.

Killian drew his head up hesitantly, his eyelids tentative in their opening before he dared lower his arms. "It's quiet…" he whispered, sounding befuddled by that very revelation.

"You don't hear the voices anymore?" Emma asked, hopeful the spell had been a success, but not rushing to inform David or Regina until she was certain.

"I don't believe so...," Killian replied, intently listening for any voices present aside from his wife's. "I think Regina's spell just might have worked…" His voice trailed off as Emma noticed his eyes were locked in an icy stare, but she couldn't tell what he was focused on.

But trying to figure out precisely what Killian was staring at became less important as she became aware of a presence attempting to fill the space between them. "What the hell?" she exclaimed as she felt _something_ trying to force its way between Killian and herself, but even though she was feeling as though that same something was trying to push her away, her husband appeared oblivious to it. "Killian?" she called out to him, but he just sat there, seemingly entranced by whatever was still in this room with them. "Killian!" She shouted his name once again as a chill enveloped her.

The temperature inside the mansion hadn't exactly been balmy all night, but it now seemed to have dropped at least another ten degrees in mere seconds. She knew that all of the windows in the room were closed and even though there had been a blast of wind that had blown through the room just moments ago, it hadn't been this cold. She thought about what they could be experiencing and all that came to mind was that there must still be a spirit here that didn't cross over - one that was suddenly manifesting its presence. It was also blatantly trying to separate her from Killian by inserting an invisible barrier between their bodies, but she'd been prepared for it this time.

"Oh, hell no!" she cried out, directing her words to the unseen spirit. "Not this time, pal…" If this thing was trying to possess Killian again, it wasn't happening. Earlier, when she'd healed the majority of his injuries from the tumble down the stairs, she'd snuck in a protection spell blocking any entity from gaining control of Killian's body again. She doubted even a virus could sneak in right now and that was perfectly fine with her. She hadn't trusted Jeremiah or any of his other ghostly friends to keep their word and not take another turn at controlling the pirate against his will. A quick-thinking modification of the protective spell she'd placed on his heart long ago to prevent Gold or anyone else from taking it had been a potentially brilliant idea, but she had no way to measure its success or failure unless a ghost tried to possess him once more.

Now, with him transfixed - some sort of magic attempting to exert influence over him - she would get her answer, but if her plan was successful, it also meant that they'd be dealing with a very pissed off ghost - and she was definitely right about that. The presence she felt trying to repel her from Killian was exerting increasing force, reaching a point where the pressure was so great it actually tipped over the sofa, sending both Emma and Killian tumbling to the parquet floor. Emma recovered almost instantly, rolling off of the upended sofa and drawing herself into a ready-for-action crouch (not that it would be particularly effective against an invisible enemy). Hampered by the prior head injury, Killian didn't get up quite as quickly, struggling against the sensation of blood rushing to his already pounding skull which left him slightly disoriented. Fortunately, at least the impact with the floor had broken the trance. He toppled over onto his side in attempt to right himself, but couldn't seem to muster the strength to push himself even to his knees.

But what Killian didn't realize was that he wasn't just fighting against his own vertigo - something was intentionally trying to keep him pinned down. It took Emma only seconds to realize that the entity was still attacking him. _Oh, no you don't_ , she thought as she propelled herself forward, grabbing a fistful of the soft, black leather that made up the collar of Killian's jacket and yanking him off of the fallen sofa. The abrupt movement caught him off-guard, leaving him slightly dazed until he regained his senses. One thing was absolutely certain though - they were definitely not alone in this room.

And this ghost wasn't playing nice anymore.

Angered, the spirit diverted its attention from the couple, instead focusing its energy on objects in the parlor - starting with small items it could easily manipulate as it worked toward larger ones. Emma's thermos suddenly became a projectile launched at her head and while it was easily deflected, there were undoubtedly going to be more.

"I'm thinking that maybe we should get out of here…," Emma suggested, although she truthfully had no idea where they could go in this blasted house that would be safe.

"I don't think that this spirit intends to allow us to leave here, Love," Killian replied as he regained his wits. "Our unseen companion is rather upset that you prevented him from possessing my being again - and thank you for that, by the way."

"So, it's the same spirit? The one who called himself Jeremiah?" Emma wondered, trying to figure out why any ghosts would have been left behind if Regina's spell had been successful. Why didn't this one cross over?

"Aye," Killian confirmed. "Tis the same entity. The other voices I was hearing earlier tonight have gone silent so it appears the others have moved on…"

"Why the hell didn't Jeremiah move on?" Emma asked as they ducked an airborne urn that sailed over their heads. "Is that why he's so upset?"

"I don't think so," Killian said, shaking his head as he strained to understand the spirit's message through the chaos. "He's quite irate, but the aggression appears to be directed more towards you than anything else."

"Damn - what did Regina get wrong that kept this one here?" she questioned as the flames of the four candles she'd just re-lit flared, the flames reaching nearly the height of the taper candles themselves before they began blending together to form what looked like a mocking face in the fire. Emma waved her hand to squelch the maniacal flames with a magically guided breeze that would once again envelope them in darkness, but both would agree that they were more unnerved by the fiery visage staring back at them than they were of the dark.

"That was truly disconcerting…," he started to say as they remained frozen in place, trying to discern where the next attack might originate. In the faint light that remained, a glimpse of movement drew his eyes upward and he immediately recognized that the motion he was seeing was the parlor's chandelier swaying - and separating from the ceiling. "Swan - look out!" He cried out as the bracket that once secured the massive light fixture to the ceiling pulled free and sent the entire metal and crystal contraption plummeting to the floor. While they managed to roll out of the way of the bulk of the fixture, broken glass sprayed everywhere along with bits of bronze shrapnel.

"I think he's gotten stronger without the competition," Emma stated as she carefully brushed away the crystal shards along with the dust and cobwebs that accompanied them. "Maybe that's what he wanted all along?" she theorized, figuring it wasn't any crazier of a thought than anything else they'd faced tonight. "I think it's time we got the hell out of this house!"

"I'm in full agreement with you there, but this spirit is not about to cooperate," Killian warned. "From what I can garner, this spectre is quite incensed, yet at the same time, he appears to be gloating…"

"Gloating? Really? Look, I'm partially glad that you can still hear him," she responded, "but I'm really sorry about what it did to you…"

"We can discuss all of that later, Love," Killian assured her. "Right now, it seems our friend, Jeremiah, is in need of a recharge. These manifestations and manipulations drained his energy, so we may have a brief window of reprieve…"

"We should head back to the butler's quarters. I don't think the ghosts have invaded that part of the property because from what I saw when I was briefly in there earlier, nothing in that area seems to be even remotely enchanted." She pushed herself up to a standing position, still wary of invasive spirits and flying objects as she searched for the radio, knowing it had fallen somewhere around the overturned sofa. Killian, still on his knees, spotted it first, locating it beneath one of the loose cushions. He leaned forward to retrieve it, wrapping his fingers around the device before he finally pushed through the dizziness and forced himself to stand.

"If you think that's the best, lead the way, Love," Killian replied, extending his arm to offer the radio to her which she accepted and pocketed, certain they would need it later. She took a few steps over to the console table where the still smoldering candelabra rested, eyeing it suspiciously before daring to pick it up. They were going to need the light, but would there be residual spirit energy accompanying them if they brought it with them? After a brief hesitation (and a struggle with lingering doubt that her magic would fail again), she wriggled her fingers ever-so-slightly to re-light the wicks.

"Good thing I healed that ankle of yours," she quipped as she lifted the candelabra from the table. "We'd better move quickly before Jeremiah regains his strength. We've got to head through the kitchen to get through the butler's quarters and I really don't want to get caught in there by a pissy spirit who can move objects…"

"There'll be no argument from me," Killian assured her as they darted out of the parlor, back into the vestibule. He unintentionally kept a fair distance between himself and the curving staircase as they dashed past it, heading down the corridor that would lead to the dining hall. "Hurry, Love," he urged. "Jeremiah isn't exactly pleased with our attempts to elude him. I can hear him cursing us - and using words far less refined than those of my crew. He isn't yet prepared to throw any more parlor tricks at us yet though."

"Good. C'mon then...through here," she advised as she grabbed his hand, practically dragging him into the dining hall towards the unfurnished square anteroom, immediately noting that its door, which had been propped open earlier, was now closed. She briefly contemplated the possibility of the door being blown shut by the blast of wind moments ago or if it had been intentionally closed by ghostly manipulation. Either way, she had no intent of lingering as she gave the door a forceful kick to swing it back open and allow them to pass through. One more swinging door admitted them into the kitchen where eerie glints of candlelight reflected off of the still shiny steel, aluminum and chrome.

Emma hesitated only for a split-second as they made their way through the room Killian would have referred to as the galley, her mind suddenly invaded by images of flying pots, pans and most worrisome - knives. She shook her head vigorously to dismiss those disturbing thoughts before yanking open the final door that would take them outside onto the covered sidewalk connecting the mansion to its caretaker's residence, whispering a silent prayer that no magical barrier would stop them and then giving silent thanks as the door opened unhindered.

"Swan, we need to move faster," Killian stated anxiously as they passed through the doorway. "We have a very antagonistic spirit here that has nearly reached full strength again!"

They sprinted the remaining few yards to the detached apartment, the dwelling which Killian not-so-fondly recalled had been the Apprentice's home - at least before he'd trapped the old man inside the Crocodile's mysterious, magic-sucking hat, all while the pirate himself had been Rumplestiltskin's unwilling slave. It hadn't been one of his prouder moments, and he sensed Jeremiah taunting him with the haunting memory. Laughter echoed in Killian's ears - evil, mocking laughter that only brought further shame about his actions. Emma noticed his brooding as she shoved the door open, drawing him out of his self-imposed trance by taking hold of a fistful of his lapel and yanking him inside the apartment's living room. She gave him an forceful, almost impolite shove away from the entrance as she slammed the door behind them, turning the deadbolt lock instinctively before realizing how ridiculous that action seemed in retrospect. A deadbolt wouldn't exactly be any barrier to a ghost she thought as she stood breathlessly pressing her back to the doorframe and then two words came to mind.

 _"Now what?"_ Emma sighed loudly before pausing to catch her breath. "Can you still hear Jeremiah? What's he thinking now?"

Killian stood in the center of the Apprentice's former living room for a few seconds, listening for the ghostly voices that had plagued him all night before realizing that no - he couldn't hear anything except his own pounding heart. "No. I don't hear him, but I'm not about to believe that or let my guard down just yet. It may just be another trick."

"Hopefully not," Emma replied, unintentionally flinching at the sound of a door slamming in the distance, certain that it was Jeremiah locking them out of the main portion of the mansion. "Earlier tonight, Jeremiah said that the Apprentice knew of their presence, but since he lived here and not in the main house, maybe the old man created some sort of barrier to keep the ghost out of his home?"

"I hope you're correct," Killian replied, massaging his aching temples as he dropped his exhausted body onto the dust-covered, faded plaid sofa. "I'm not certain how much more my head can take…"

"Maybe the Apprentice has some aspirin or something stashed around here?" she suggested, trying to determine where the bathroom might be as she hadn't made it past this room earlier.

"I'll be fine, Swan. Question is - can we leave the property from here without traipsing back through the main house?"

"I don't know, but…" Her train of thought trailed off as the radio in her pocket came to life and she heard the muffled sound of her father's voice.

"Emma? Hook?" David voice pleaded anxiously. "Are either of you able to hear me?" She suddenly realized that while they were trying to remain a step ahead of a ghost, David had been sitting out in front of the mansion, most likely seeing the flashes of light and maybe even overhearing some noises of a rather disturbing nature.

She shoved her hand into her pocket and withdrew the radio, immediately depressing the Talk button. "Yeah...we're here, Dad."

"Oh, thank goodness!" They could hear David's relieved sigh over the crackle of static. "I was seeing more of those strange lights and then, a few minutes later, I thought I heard a crash. I got out of the truck to see what was going on and when I looked through the front window, I could barely make out the chandelier laying on the ground next to an overturned couch…"

"Sorry - we didn't exactly have time to alert you," Emma responded as she made her way over to the other side of the room to join her husband on the sofa. "We've got one angry ghost to deal with here. Killian is pretty sure that the others were freed to cross over, but there's still one here - Jeremiah - and he's dispensed with all of his pleasantries."

"Well, Regina's here," David informed them, the announcement coming as a bit of a surprise to both Emma and Killian. Was she just following up to see if the spell had worked and if so, why didn't she just call David to inquire? "That ghost - Jeremiah - she thinks he might be dangerous…"

"I think we've found that out," Emma replied, perhaps a little too snidely. "He tried to possess Killian again, but I blocked him with a protective spell. I think it pissed him off just a bit because he started throwing stuff at us."

"Where are you now?" David asked impatiently. "You're not still in the parlor, are you?"

"No, we're around back - in the butler's quarters where the old Apprentice used to live," Emma explained. "If you can find a way back here without going through the mansion, it doesn't seem like this section has enough magic for Jeremiah to use so we seem to be alone. He probably has the main house on lockdown again."

"Okay, thanks," David responded. "We'll find a way to get back there because Regina needs to fill you in with what she just told me." The radio went quiet again, leaving Emma and Killian to ponder the last part of David's statement. What exactly did Regina need to tell them and did it have anything to do with Jeremiah possibly being dangerous? Just what the hell had they walked into tonight?

 _There's one chapter left in this little adventure. Is Jeremiah really who he claims to be? Everyone is going to have to work together to stop this ghost before he tries to invade Storybrooke._


	6. Chapter 6

_My apologies that this is being posted a day later than scheduled, but due to a minor family emergency, I didn't have access to my laptop yesterday. Anyway, here is the final chapter of The Inbetween! I've had a lot of fun writing my first ghost story and I hope some of you out there have enjoyed reading it! Thanks to everyone for their lovely comments and encouragement!_

Scarce seconds would elapse before Emma and Killian were greeted with a cloud of deep violet smoke which gradually dissipated to reveal the forms of both Regina and David, now standing in the middle of the Apprentice's living room with them.

"That was quick," Emma commented sarcastically as her initial surprise faded, mentally questioning why Regina would resort to using magic while in such close proximity to a ghost that fed off of it.

"I wasn't about to go traipsing through the overgrown landscaping in the middle of the night," Regina replied, echoing Emma's sarcastic tone. "And right now, the best course of action for all of us to take would be to leave this place right now, seal it up permanently and forget it exists."

"Sealing the ghost inside?" Emma asked skeptically. "For some reason, after all we've experienced tonight, I highly doubt that would work. There's too much magic here and if this ghost is already capable of enacting his own protection spells, what's to stop him from trying to break ours?"

Regina practically snorted as she chuckled at Emma's unfounded worry. "He's not that powerful," she scoffed.

"Maybe not today, but that could change," Emma reminded her. "The ghost even told us that as All Hallow's Eve approaches, he can draw from even more dark magic, but I have a feeling you already know that. And I think there's a lot more to this story…" She stood to face Regina in the candlelit room, wanting to make sure she could see the mayor's face if she tried to lie to them. "When you lifted the spell that enchanted the hearts, Killian said the spirits went quiet - at least for a couple of minutes. We know that there's at least one very angry spirit still in there. Why didn't he cross over? Don't you have his heart?"

Regina's face scrunched in thought as she fought for a way to relay the story, exhaling a deep sigh. "I'm fairly certain I know where this particular heart is located…"

"It sounds as though there's something you don't want to share with us, your majesty," Killian pressed, disdain practically dripping from his tongue as they awaited the rest of this tale. "The spirit, Jeremiah - David informed us that you believed he was dangerous. Perhaps you would like to clarify that statement?"

"He told us that he was one of your Black Guard," Emma added, "but I have a feeling that we're not getting the whole story…"

"That part is true," Regina stated, although reluctant to reveal details from so long ago. "He was a member of my Black Guard, but he was also a troublesome aspiring warlock."

"A warlock?" Emma repeated, incredulously. "The ghost we've been fighting all night was some sort of warlock? No wonder he's hanging out here in his afterlife with so much magical energy at his disposal. Still doesn't explain though why he didn't cross over with the others, assuming that really was his goal… Why stick around if you've fought so hard to move on?"

"Jeremiah was a special case," Regina began, glancing about the room looking for the least dusty and dingy place to sit, finally deciding simply to lean her weight against a wall. "My Black Guard were the inner circle of my army, hand-picked either by myself or my closest confidants and entrusted to carry out my orders without question. They were required to be a particularly ruthless bunch by design and I expected loyalty from them. One night, I caught Jeremiah snooping through my spell books without permission and even though I probably should have turned him into a toad or something right then and there, it was just before I cast the first curse so I must have been feeling somewhat benevolent that night because I simply ripped out his heart and made him my slave instead."

"Why is it that so many of your stories sound alike?" David asked rhetorically as Regina ignored his sarcasm - even though he was correct. "I had a feeling you remembered who he was when I mentioned his name earlier."

"If it was just before the curse, was he brought to Storybrooke then or did he come here later?" Emma wondered, trying to place where he might have fit into Storybrooke daily life.

"He came with us during the first curse. I know he was working at the Post Office during that time, but I lost track of him after the curse was broken. I honestly don't know when or how he died. You'd have to check with the town clerk for that information, but since he knows his real name and who he was in the Enchanted Forest, obviously he died after the curse broke."

"So, let me guess - you can't actually find his heart?" was David's next question. "Even though you say you know where it is, I have a suspicion that he didn't cross over because his heart isn't actually here…"

"Oh, I know precisely where Jeremiah's heart is located," Regina snapped back defensively. "I just can't be sure if the enchantment actually lifted or if he simply doesn't want to cross over."

"He tried to possess Killian again after the other ghosts departed, so to speak," Emma said as she tried to put the new information Regina had provided together with their interactions with Jeremiah. "We think he might be after something that requires a physical body to obtain. Any idea what that might be?"

"My first guess is that he's trying to find a way to get to me - to get his heart back before I crush it," Regina stated.

"I don't think he'd actually need a physical body to try to kill you, especially since he tried to drop a chandelier on us earlier tonight. I'm still thinking there's something you're not telling us…" Emma's green eyes darkened, sparking angry with the flickering candlelight as everyone was now staring at Regina, awaiting an answer.

"Why would you have told us he's dangerous and why come all the way out here if you could stop him simply by crushing his heart?" David questioned. Something simply wasn't adding up here.

"Fine!" Regina huffed impetuously. "I've known the ghosts were here for a while and I knew Jeremiah was one of them." She took a deep breath before continuing. "When I took Jeremiah's heart, I looked him in the eyes and told him I wasn't going to crush it, but that instead, I was going to punish him for his insolence. I sealed his heart into a little silver box and locked it away in my vault - and in doing so, bound his magic and sent him to my dungeon until the curse was cast."

She paused to gauge their reactions before going on but no one seemed to be particularly horrified by her revelation. Had everyone grown so accustomed to tales of her evil deeds that they weren't even the least surprised by her actions anymore?

"When the curse created Storybrooke," Regina continued, "everyone had false memories implanted into their psyche, so I saw it as a chance to make Jeremiah useful again. I gave him a new civil service job - one as monotonous as possible - as punishment. But it seems that sometime after the curse broke, Jeremiah regained enough of his memories to realize he was missing his heart. Most never regain that memory, but in his case, not only did he remember about his heart, but the curse breaking must have freed him from the spell that I'd enacted to bind his magic. With magic returned to Storybrooke, he tried to resume his experimentations, but without a heart, he wouldn't have been able to summon the emotion necessary to grow and guide his powers so, while we were all distracted dealing with my mother, Greg and Tamara, Jeremiah apparently went on a quest to find his heart - to no avail. While we were in Neverland searching for Henry, he broke into my vault, but his heart wasn't there…"

"Do we even want to know it's actual location or how Jeremiah ended up being a cranky, magic-absorbing spirit haunting the Sorcerer's mansion?" Emma asked, curious as to what Regina would answer, yet somewhat afraid what that same answer might be.

"His heart was still sealed inside its little silver box back in my castle, where it would have remained probably for eternity, but then, as you know - Zelena happened. When the Wicked Witch took over my castle, she also took control over all of the magical objects I'd left behind, one of those being Jeremiah's heart. The curse your mother cast to bring everyone back here to Storybrooke of course also brought Zelena, and with her, many of those same magical trinkets and enchanted hearts. She had no idea who any of those belonged to yet somehow, Jeremiah knew his heart was back here in Storybrooke and the fool attempted to ally himself with Zelena, then still pretending to be Snow White's midwife, to get it back. When I found out the traitor was helping my sister, I got a bit irate and snapped his neck, leaving his body out in the forest. I know Henry wanted me to try being the better person, but I wasn't exactly there yet and since Jeremiah was working for the Wicked Witch of the West, he was as much of an enemy to us as she was. Honestly, I didn't think another thing about what I'd done until the first time someone reported a presence in the Sorcerer's mansion. At first, I thought it was just Gold up to no good again, but I later discovered it was actually paranormal activity. Ghosts don't exactly scare me so I ignored their existence - until David came knocking on my door tonight."

"Damnit, Regina! Why didn't you tell anyone else about this?" David chided her. "Especially if you thought it was Jeremiah?"

"Because at the time, I had a lot more to worry about than a ghost!" Regina shouted back at him. "And at the time, I had no reason to believe that he might be dangerous, but that changed tonight when you told me he'd possessed the pirate's body."

"Okay," Emma interjected, putting an end to the bickering, at least temporarily. "That's all in the past, but we still have to find a way to deal with Jeremiah here in the present. How are we going to stop him from getting any more powerful before Halloween and leaving this house to reign terror on the citizens of Storybrooke? I witnessed one ghostly possession tonight and I really don't want to ever see another. How do we deal with this spirit once and for all?"

"Would crushing the heart now dispatch his trapped soul to the Underworld?" Killian asked.

"Perhaps - If we can get to it," Regina replied sheepishly as another important fact she'd been concealing was about to surface.

"You told us just minutes ago that you knew where it was." David reminded her.

"Oh, I do," Regina assured him, extending her index finger in the direction of the main house. "It's in there."

" _Inside the mansion_?" Emma couldn't believe what she'd just heard. "You put the heart of the ghost who's hunting for it _inside_ the same mansion he's haunting?'

"In my defense, I didn't actually put it there." Regina retorted. "It seems to have landed here during the curse. I remember seeing it here in one of those little secret rooms when we were hunting for the Author. I should have come back for it, but once Isaac was freed, things escalated pretty quickly around here…"

Emma sighed as she dropped back onto the sofa, sinking into the cushions beside Killian who was rubbing his bleary eyes with his thumb and index finger. "Okay - so where do we find it and how are we going to get in there to look?"

"It's in a little room off of the library - some narrow chamber that Henry located when we were looking for the door pictured in the book," Regina explained.

"A little narrow, tunnel-like corridor?" David asked, seeking clarification as Regina nodded in reply. "I think I know where it is. The kids tonight got themselves stuck in a secret passage connecting the living room to the library. There's a false stone built into the fireplace that opens up a panel in the wall. That has to be the same one, so if we can get back inside, I can go retrieve the box."

"If we can get around Jeremiah's protective spells. I highly doubt he'll let us back inside without trying to kill us all again," Emma responded, struggling to think of another way to do this.

"I'm hardly worried about a ghost's spell," Regina chuffed. "I can get us through that easily. Jeremiah wasn't ever that skilled of a warlock and I doubt he's gotten better in death. I can lower the spell long enough for you to get inside."

"Someone would have to go with me," David stated. "The door doesn't stay open long so someone has to stay inside the living room to reopen it once I get the box. What exactly am I looking for anyway?"

Regina closed her eyes as she pictured the box so she could describe its appearance to David. "It's a rectangular box made out of silver - about four by six inches and maybe two inches deep. Just large enough to hold a heart. There's a polished, oval onyx stone on the latch and the lock is sealed with blood magic so that only someone of my bloodline can open it. It'll be tucked away in an alcove just off of that corridor. There isn't a lot inside there so you should be able to locate it quickly."

"Alright then," David said with a smile. "Let's go find it."

"I'll go with you," Emma offered, "as long as someone can manage to keep Jeremiah occupied long enough for me to poof us inside and grab that box."

"I can distract the spirit," Killian spoke up. "He wants to possess me, so what better way to maintain his attention than to let him try again."

"No way," Emma said, shaking her head vigorously. "It's too dangerous. Even if he can't fully possess you anymore, his presence still seems to have a negative effect on you. You went into some sort of trance and if that happens again, he could kill you!"

"Unfortunately, I happen to agree with the pirate," Regina countered. "It would be perfect to use him as bait - so to speak." She added the latter in response to Emma's glare. "Don't worry. I'll be there with him. I won't allow Jeremiah to harm him."

"I suppose we don't have much choice," Emma scowled. "Let's go then. We've got a ghost to bust and get this night over with."

* * *

True to her word, Regina made quick work of Jeremiah's protective barrier, lowering it and surreptitiously enacting one of her own. She informed Emma and David that they'd have approximately ten minutes to retrieve the heart before Jeremiah's spirit energy would begin draining their magic so they'd have to make this quick. David recited a silent prayer to whatever god might be listening as he and Emma transported into the living room, enveloped in a swirl of grey smoke. Switching on his flashlight, he wasted no time hurrying to the fireplace to show Emma the location of the fake stone that would allow her to open the panel concealed inside the wall.

As the panel slid open, David aimed the flashlight beam into the dark recess, but couldn't see much in the inky blackness. At least so far, they'd been left alone. Whatever Regina and Hook were doing to keep the ghost entertained appeared to be working because they'd yet to face any resistance.

"Be back in a moment," David promised his daughter before ducking his head and stepping inside the hidden passageway while she waited impatiently in the living room, listening for their agreed upon pattern of knocks so she'd know when to press the stone. _Please make this quick_ , she whispered as she heard the panel snap closed.

* * *

Regina, in the meantime, had transported Killian and herself into the vestibule, wisely avoiding entering the mansion anywhere near the kitchen. They were here simply to draw and maintain Jeremiah's undivided attention, keeping the ghost away from the living room so that David and Emma could retrieve the heart. They weren't here to chase a ghost throughout the depths of the property and Regina wanted this night to end just as rapidly as Emma did.

"You really should have spent more time practicing how to conjure a proper protective spell, Jeremiah," Regina announced her presence with a statement clearly designed to antagonize him.

"And as if he wasn't angry enough…" Killian muttered under his breath, nearly convinced that Regina actually was trying to get them both killed. "You certainly got his attention, Love," he added as he heard the spirit's unenthralled response.

"That was my intention. He was an unskilled, second-rate warlock - barely deserving of that description," she continued to goad the invisible entity as above their heads, the vestibule's light fixture began to sway on its chrome chain, the heavy crystal sphere hovering precariously over them. Regina managed to throw a protective barrier around them just as that chain snapped, deflecting the sphere away from them where it shattered against the marble floor sending lethal glass shards flying in every direction.

"I do believe our host is a tad irate," Killian quipped sarcastically.

"Good," she stated in reply. "Let him use all of that energy throwing things at us…"

"And what if he starts draining your magic?" he asked, recalling the challenges Emma had faced earlier in the evening.

"He's only one ghost. He can't draw all of it away that swiftly, but for all of our sakes, let's hope that Charming makes it snappy locating that box!"

"Agreed," Killian nodded as they watched a new scene unfold before them. The shards of broken glass began to draw together, swirled up and around in a miniature cyclone of shiny, deadly projectiles. "I do hope this magical barricade you've enacted is powerful enough to withstand that…" The spinning vortex began to pick up speed and girth as it moved towards them, mercifully repelled by Regina's protective spell, but as the shards scattered back across the marble surface, the spell faltered, leaving them incredibly vulnerable to another attack.

"Damn!" she exclaimed, shaking her hands furiously as she tried in vain to raise the spell again, but she simply couldn't draw enough magic. "He can't possibly be that strong…"

"I hate to disappoint you, Regina, but it would appear that you've misjudged this entity!" Killian shouted, a split-second before some manner of malevolent force struck them both from behind - one strong enough to send them both sprawling to the floor.

* * *

"I don't like what I'm hearing out there, Dad," Emma shouted anxiously toward the panel in the wall, startled by the sound of something heavy - and apparently very breakable - striking a solid surface. "Have you found it yet?"

On the other side of the wall, David crouched with the silver box clutched tightly beneath his arm while he pounded furiously against the wall. He'd remembered, a little too late, one very important fact Tyler Sprat and his friends had told him earlier - the passageway allowed them to hear sounds from outside, but no one outside could hear sounds from inside the tunnel. Emma was out there waiting for him to knock, but she wasn't going to be able to hear him and he'd stupidly left the radio back in the butler's quarters. But on this early morning, he couldn't have been more thankful for his daughter's impatience when the panel slid open and he could see the beacon of her flashlight.

"Everything okay in there?" she called out into the darkness as she made her way from the fireplace over to the passage entrance right as David scrambled out.

"I forgot that you wouldn't be able to hear me," he confessed. "I'm so glad you decided to open up the panel anyway."

"Did you find it?" she cut him off even more impatiently. "I'm hearing all sorts of loud noises coming from out there…"

"Yes, I found it," he replied, holding up the tarnished silver box where she could see it.

"Well, then, we'd better hurry up before that ghost drains all of Regina's magic."

"This way then," David said as he clasped his fingers around her wrist and pulled her toward the arched doorway that would lead back to the vestibule, arriving just in time to see both Killian and Regina be tossed to the floor by an invisible force, landing amidst a scattering of shiny objects that reflected the glow of her flashlight. Broken glass from the light fixture, she realized as the beam illuminated the metal chain coiled on the floor.

Regina was livid as she pressed her bloodied hands to the floor, catching glimpses of Emma's flashlight in the hallway to her left, maintaining hope that she and Charming had located the heart. On her right, the pirate had pushed himself up onto his knees and even though she couldn't see his facial expression in this dark vestibule, she assumed that Killian would be equally angered at Jeremiah shoving them around. In actuality, Killian had scarcely been given a moment to recover before the ghost turned his full attention on him and drew the pirate into a trance-like state yet again.

As Emma and David approached, they heard what sounded like clanking metal which Emma immediately realized was the sound of the chain she'd just spotted on the floor now moving on its own. She directed her light to where she'd seen it lying earlier just as the chain lifted off of the floor to encircle Killian's neck.

"Killian!" she wailed, hoping he would hear her cry and break from the trance, but he remained unmoving, making no attempt to fend off strangulation as the chain tightened about his neck under Jeremiah's power. Emma's jaw gaped open as she instinctively yanked the silver box out of her father's hand, offering it up to the vicious entity. "Is this what you want, Jeremiah?" she cried out, done with this spirit's antics.

"Emma, what are you doing?" Regina demanded. "Don't let him get ahold of that!" She didn't want to hand over their only bargaining chip to Jeremiah, but she understood Emma's anxiety as she grabbed ahold of the chain and tried to pull it free from Killian's neck before his airway was completely cut off. The chains weren't budging though and Regina suddenly had a feeling of helplessness wash over her as she sensed her magic being drained away only to be absorbed by the very entity they were fighting.

"Sorry, Regina. Gotta do this my way," Emma countered as she then addressed the ghost. "Let Killian go and you can have the box!" The moment she shouted the words to their invisible enemy, the box flew from her grasp and both the chain and Killian dropped to the floor. The box landed atop the marble on the opposite side of the staircase, out of the reach of any human's hand at the moment, but it rattled and vibrated wildly as though the ghost were struggling to get it open.

Emma crouched beside Killian, tossing the chain away from him as he gasped for breath, no longer transfixed by Jeremiah's spell. She drew her arms around him protectively as they glanced over at the silver box lifting off of the floor and flying into the wall. It was as though Jeremiah had become frustrated with his inability to open it and free his heart so he'd flung box and all against the wall in hopes that it would break open - but he wouldn't be so lucky.

"Why did you let him get the box?" David asked in frustration after all they'd done to recover it. "Won't that make him more dangerous?"

"It would - if we weren't a step ahead of our supernatural friend here this time," Emma replied cryptically as her right hand slipped inside of her leather jacket. "I'm sorry, Jeremiah, but it's time for you to rejoin your companions in the Underworld…" As she withdrew her hand, she revealed the deep, ruby red heart clutched in her palm and then tightened her fingers around it. She felt the entity descending upon her as she crushed it to dust, an act which she normally would have harbored immense guilt over, but Jeremiah was already dead. She was only helping him move on, as he should, Emma told herself as she squeezed it until there was nothing left but a pile of ash billowing from her fist.

No one said a word for a few seconds as a brilliant flash of light lit up the vestibule and the scattering of dust was picked up in another mini-cyclone like the one that Jeremiah had created with the glass shards earlier but this one vanished in a flash. Killian was finally the one to break the silence. "He's gone," he said in a raspy whisper before collapsing against Emma.

"Hope this afterlife is better for you, Jeremiah," Emma stated as she pushed herself to stand up and then helped her husband to his feet, carefully dusting away glittering crystal slivers with her sleeve.

Feeling her magic restored, Regina waved her hand and the front door swung open, revealing the first faint hint of the morning sunrise to the east. "I think we can all safely go home now," she smiled as she stood. "I think the mayor just might be taking today off," she announced to the others before disappearing in a purple cloud.

"I think I'm in full agreement," David laughed, taking a tentative step through the doorway, not yet convinced that they could leave freely, but there was no barrier to stop him from strolling out to the porch.

"C'mon, pirate," she urged her exhausted husband. "We should probably go get your head checked out…" Emma suggested as they followed David through the front door, pulling it closed behind them before Emma sealed the lock with magic. David started to descend the steps towards his truck, but paused as he reached the flagstone walk, turning to Emma with a look of pure confusion on his face.

"I've got a question for you, Emma," he turned, glancing up at his daughter who was still standing on the porch. "Regina said that the box was sealed with blood magic, so how did you manage to get it open and take the heart out? And how did you know that it would work?"

"Before we left the Apprentice's living room, Regina gave me a tiny vial of her blood - just enough to break the seal. She figured we might need it, and did we ever! I opened up the box and stashed the heart in my jacket while we were making our way down the hallway in the dark. The rest was just a little bit of misdirection."

"I, for one, am quite pleased that it worked," Killian stated with a weary, but grateful smile. "Now - may we please go home? I'll be fine…" He lowered his aching bones to sit on the top step and slumped his tired body against the railing, simply too exhausted to take another step.

"Looks like I'll be making a trip back for the Bug later," Emma grinned. "Thanks for all of your help tonight, Dad."

"Anytime," he assured her. "Have a good night - err, morning?" he chuckled as she wrapped her arm around Killian and they poofed away in a puff of smoke.

Emma transported them straight to their bedroom, depositing Killian atop their king-sized bed. She helped him shrug off his leather jacket while he toed off his boots then fell back against the pile of pillows, not even caring that he was still clothed. It didn't take long for him to drift off and while she had some lingering concerns about his head injury, she decided she wasn't in the mood to deal with Dr. Whale at this hour so she set her alarm to go off in two hours, remembering something she'd read somewhere that you should wake a person with a concussion every couple of hours to make sure they hadn't slipped into deep unconsciousness.

Since he'd fallen asleep atop the comforter, she yanked a quilt off of the back of the armchair sitting in the corner and draped it over him. She then slipped off her own leather jacket, tossing it right onto the same spot she'd removed the quilt from before she unzipped and removed her boots and collapsed onto the bed herself. She snuggled in close to him, tugging half of the quilt over her own body while pressing a kiss into his cheek and finally, resting her head atop his chest to hear the comforting sound of his heart beating beneath her ear.

 _What a night,_ was the last thought that crossed her mind as she faded into slumber. Maybe the Sheriff would be taking the day off too.


End file.
